The mind can’t feel,
the heart has no thought,
but a balance worth mentioning
is how fate is caught.
Tug a war, chauvinist,
always in between,
sitting on a defensive gate, for
Unable too deem,
As opposites, never truly attract,
by reasonable, means.
Married mind follows dutifully, toward biblical extremes .
As backburner thoughts,
explore the heart,
on the brink, to remain clean.
all answered calls,
antagonized submissions, dying to relead.
Unspoken truths hibernate in error, waiting on logical kick ins,
to appear out of thin air.
exhausting long hike,
when listening shutsdown,
for the need to be right.
Prides ego saturates, tug a war in a truce,
flags go up,
are still stewing in their juices.
Past instances show, where debates went wrong, as a speaker’s mic loudly plays
static, like an old Blues song.
The road map of matrimony,
holds a distinct treasure,
but survivalist Gem detour,
through the endurance of turbulent weather.
apologies that never come,
one sided thinking, changes sirens into, hums.
Offering defensed answers,
and reactions to be done
as seconds off the lips,
tug on a war, for days to come.
Poetry By Tamara L Dorsey-Moore~ TOTL
COPYRIGHT (C) 2016 Reserved for Tamara Moore and select audience