Poem: Ropes

ropes

Ropes

Yes, they were ropes,
but they were silken,
soft with promises and hope,
remembrances of tender nights
and fiery passion,
of talks deep into the night,
so late, the candles flickered out
while the words went on.

Yes, they were ropes,
but they were your ropes,
familiar as they held you,
as they cut into your arms
and your soul as surely
as the torturers knife.
They were the devil you knew,
dressed in Brooks Brothers,
polite and patient and cruel,
just out of reach, an expert
in knots he tied himself.

Yes, they were ropes,
and now, suddenly, they are gone,
slashed in a fit of childish tantrum,
but no less gone for that,
fallen to your feet,
freeing you to fly or flee to dark corners.
You are lost without them.
but bravely and full of fear,
you peer around the corner
to see what is there.

About this poem. 

Sometimes the thing we fear most sets us on our truest path.

Tom

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s