Tuesday, August 23, 2005

...soap operas are bad for you.

...i've been watching too many episodes of American soap operas and now I'm haunted by the stories so much that this poem is well...soap-ish...LOL!



Torn
-rey

hE loved her.
She loved hIm.
He loved her.
She loved him.

He loves her,
She once was with him.
They stayed together.
Until fate's playful whim.

She found hIm.
hE loved her.
She loved hIm.
They stayed together.

Fate felt playful.
Played one more game.
Hurt them till they turned hateful.
Now nothing is the same.

She drowns in tears.
He fills with indignation.
hE boils with frustration.
A recipe for destruction.

With fires of passion
He calls her back.
She thinks not now, not yet.
He thinks, the stage is set.

With hunger for justice
hE calls her back.
She thinks not now, not yet.
Again, hE's heart-broken, upset.

A grand love triangle
Confused and passionate at every angle.
A bomb set to explode.
With the slightest bump on the road.

He asks her
What does hE have that i don't?
She bites her lip and says,
"A passion for loving me."

hE confronts her
What does He have that i don't?
With a heavy heart she answers
"Security, stability."

She hides her face
She doesnt want them to see.
What hE really has
Is her heart & soul entirely.

Or does hE?