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Image for the poem adversity (sonnet)

adversity (sonnet)

The measure of success is how we count  
Our disappointments, when the love has gone;
I wonder, had lust lasted, what amount
Of pleasure would have gratified; what fun  
We might have had together? But, now split,  
You find fine furious fucks and, me, delights  
Alone in destinies we shared; you grit
Your teeth and can conceal those thrilling nights  
From someone, who you care for deeply now;
So who do you betray? No one at all  
Besides yourself; you reaped all you once ploughed  
And walked away to leave me feeling small,  
Forgotten, yet obliged to recollect  
Dissembling dick (shredded in retrospect).  
Written by SweetOblivion
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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