The Flawed Man

Walking along
according to the plan
drawn up by
the flawed man,
the outline written,
the ideas thought
with the present
fights being fought,
time to attack,
the move is made
with the game chosen
being played.
The years of practice
to prepare for now
are successful
and make you proud.
It all works
how it was drawn
until it's done
and reality hits you, pawn:
it was all wrong,
it was all a sham.
It was all a storm
that broke the dam.
This philosophy
taken in life
now pulls it
apart with this strife.
The part that
was supposed to float
now drowns
and strangles the throat
while the part
noticeably collapsing
threatens the life
now too quickly passing
only to allow you
enough time to realize
the self-afflicted self-destruction
is the prize.

Love's End

It's over.
It's gone.
All dreams
say so long.
years both
put in
deceased,
survived by children.
Two souls
that found
each other
laid around
now spit
hatred to
and fro,
nothing more to do.
Papers drawn,
papers sent,
papers signed,
emotions meant.
Lives tied
now cut apart
at the hips
and at the hearts.
Two as one
are two again
in love's death,
in love's end.