An Amateur’s Maturity

He set forth on sail,

carrying in hand his lover’s mail.

Dressed like it was a costume party,

barbarian, looking like a rube, so quirky.

As suspicious as a creature could be,

Heartbroken and dejected was he.

Having lost what he loved profusely,

None to sympathize but laugh mockingly.

Bewildered with the past,

that worked like a mnemonic cast.

Avoiding recollect of memories frequent,

willing to make peace with the present.

Trying to simplify the future,

that he wanted to nourish & nurture.

Overcoming the conjuring spell,

that constantly drained him well.

It wasn’t his fault, the ‘practical him’ insist,

which his heart seldom agreed to permit.

Collecting all the courage he owns,

grabbing hold of all his strengths,

he tends to move ahead in life,

leaving behind the puzzled him and his strife.

It’s better to deal and live with one’s own choice,

than enrolling for and leading ‘a life of compromise’.

That’s encrusted with grief, sorrow, and pain.

Not worthy enough of any gain.

Now, her mail made more sense,

when it worked in his defense.

That her reasons to rip apart weren’t a lecture,

And that it was a decision so wise & mature.

When togetherness cannot make you any happier,

Isolation & separation is better, no matter.

Finally, he was at peace with his thoughts,

Cherishing the learnings and experience lots.

P.S. – In response to Daily Post Prompts.

21 prompts in 1 poem, a new benchmark, beating my own previous attempt of 15, What a Coincidence.


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