It was a blow to the ego,
Discovering I could not keep your love.
Perhaps that was the problem--
My pride was wounded more than my heart.
I suppose the loss of true love
Should be more of a keenly felt agony
Than a lingering sense of resentment,
But all I could offer up to your memory
Was a quickly dulling desire to prove
You were wrong to let me go,
A resolve that was soon replaced
By my own ambition.
I've gotten along without you quite well,
And now it's like you never were there at all.
Thank you
Reyhan
Picture credit- www.7cups.com
Great Piece. Wish you luck on the raffle. Thanks for participating. God Bless. Peace.
Thanks much
Your post won 0.3 Sbd promotion from the weekly poetry post promotion raffle. Good Luck on the next one. God Bless.
Thank you so much :)
I love this poem. We've all been there with the wounded pride. 😎
Thank you! And yes, we all have wounds. Some of them are deep
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