On Poets and Endings

"Poets are unhappy people, for, no matter
how high their spirits reach, they will
still be enclosed in an envelope of tears." 

                                  -- Khalil Gibran


When it is done,
it is done.

The mistake is to hang on
to deluded hope,
to dreams of love's return.

Love is like a
wildflower;
once bloomed
the stem survives
but the flower dies,
the barren stalk
a sad reminder
of love's beauty past.

Love wraps its tendrils
around your heart,
the roots digging
deep into your soul.
There they find a
rich reserve of moisture,
released as rain from
your sorrowing eyes.

When it is done,
it is done.

Let it go.

Let it end.

Make friends with
your loneliness.

Make peace with
your pain.