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Her Love Had Cost



Her Love Had Cost
By beetle on 03/14/2009
Viewed: 436
Reviews: 1
Rating: No Rating
He grabbed her arm,
She twisted away,
He kissed her lips,
She turned to say,
“Is this love?
What you feel for me?”
Then she ran away.

The next day she awoke,
But not were she had gone to sleep.
The man was watching her,
She screamed,
But didn’t go!

“Is this love?”
She yelled,
Alarmed,
She felt, so afraid,
Did she love him?
This beast of war,
Or was is pity,
And despair?

He smiled,
But didn’t say a word,
This quiet mystic man,
The fear that had gripped her,
Was back,
And close at hand.

She was afraid,
A new feeling emerged,
Love that was it,
But a love she did not know.

Life had drained her,
In to many ways,
But he loved her,
Anyways.

Could she love him?
Be venerable again?
Or would she live,
Her life in pain?

He seemed so kind,
So caring to,
But did she love him,
Was he true?

She thought yes,
I love this man,
Then she turned,
And kissed his hand.

A man of war,
Was very strong,
And a man of war,
Would sing a song,
A song of praise,
For his wife,
For she loved him,
When in these days.

The days were long,
The nights were cold,
But she waited,
For him to fold,
His soldier gear,
And head home.
Did she not know,
That he had died?

It started when he didn’t respond to her letters,
Then the letter came,
“Sorry miss,
For your loss,
Theirs nothing we could do.
He was a brave young man,
And reliable too.”

She had loved him,
And he had crushed her,
Just like them all.
She cried and cried and cried,
Then stood up straight and tall!





“Goodbye.”
Was all she said,
Before she took her life,
To be with her lover,
She had left in strife,
A love that’s never failing,
Had gripped, her heart,
Then when she lost it,
She was torn apart!

This poor young women,
Didn’t know the pain,
She inflicted on her father,
Who found her cut and slain.

This poor young women,
Had taken her own life,
By doing so her father,
Had gotten into strife!

Now this poor young women,
Who wanted only peace,
Was the reason,
Her father,
Had died,
From the grief!
That his loving daughter,
Had destroyed her life,
To be with her lover,
All on this dark night!

Then the mother came home,
From late night shopping,
And saw the tragedy,
That made her take her life!

A father and a daughter,
Dead on the floor,
No one to love her,
Not anymore!

The mother lay down her life,
And said no final words,
For her love and her daughter,
Gave her the strength to speak.

Now that she was dead,
The speaking never ceased,
For her love and her daughter,
Were forever at peace.

The poor, poor policemen,
Who came to the seen,
He was on the edge,
And when he saw the seen,
His life was taken,
Just like the rest.
All because of a young man,
Who was pushed to his best,
Then sent to war,
And killed,
Though our country won,
In so many ways we lost,
Just look at this girl,
And what her love had cost.






© By beetle On 3/14/2009 12:21:29 AM
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