The Lover

Susan was a fighter and a lover.

Since the day she was held by her mother,

She was oh so independent

But still held people oh so close.

 

Susan’s mother was an optimist with too much trust.

Wearing rose colored glasses that time turned to rust,

She had all the best intentions

But no ground to base them on.

 

Susan’s father was a cynic with trust in no one else.

Using rules, verses, & control, to hide what he felt,

He pushed Susan’s mother around,

But did not know how to do better.

 

Susan grew up watching… and at night she cried,

“This isn’t love.”

Pulling books to her chest which helped her look above,

She was oh so sure there was more to hold

Than parental shouts and breaking glass.

 

Susan’s mother chose to play defense:

At times questioning,

but never crossing over the fence

She and her husband had built through the years.

 

Susan’s father said he was doing what he should

But his words and his actions always circled from bad to good.

His shouts would fill the house

And then lie quite there for days.

 

Susan left without their blessing, hoping she could find her way;

Knowing she could live and love a brand-new day.

Her plans were drawn out on journal pages

Filled with hope for unforgettable romance.

 

But Susan fell in love with a “Mr.” who swore he’d be there.

Susan held onto the man for whom she chose to care.

Soon her heart was his

And his enthralling words filled her air.

 

Susan didn’t see it coming:

The change in the man.

But soon he was close and distant

Kind and mean, but not sorry to ruin her plan.

 

He walked away and came back,

Circling,

Just to make sure she was in his hands.

 

Susan’s eyes grew red as she put on her own

Rose colored glasses to dull this pain.

But no matter how she tried,

She couldn’t keep her eyes dry in the rain.

 

Susan now understood

How a mother had and could

Blind herself to the stain.

 

But Susan’s will grew stronger

Each time she fought to bring the good guy back.

Then one day, Susan’s man said the same thing,

But oh he said the wrong thing,

And Susan ripped off her rosy glasses;

For, he had left the last crack.

 

So Susan picked up her belongings and pride.

She left it all behind her

Every last moment that had lied

To make her believe love should be a lonesome ride.

 

Susan built for herself a new house, fence, and life

With shining glass, open gates, and room to grow through strife.

Then one day, a very distant day down that road,

Susan become a true lover’s, true, loving wife.

 

–Written by Sandy Heights

Image by <a href=”https://pixabay.com/users/geralt-9301/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=2748342″>Gerd Altmann</a> from <a href=”https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=2748342″>Pixabay</a&gt;

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