Weeds

Like weeds among the flowers in my yard,

you sneak inside my soul and block the sun.

I wish at times like this my heart was hard...

there was a time when loving you was fun,

but now it feels like leeches at the lake;

the damages inside can’t be undone.

I should have known the tenderness was fake,

like pink flamingos at my Grandma’s house

or toothpaste icing on a birthday cake.

The spark of passion inside me was doused

and wisdom seems a lousy end reward.

I watch you walk away, once-trusted spouse,

and prove my dreams were just a house of cards,

like weeds among the flowers in my yard.

(c) 2016 - dustygrein

**This terza rima sonnet is dedicated to the woman who for 34 years shared my world and my name, and now is just somebody that I used to know.