The Sting

I have no patience for the disengage,

To stand in the haze of another’s self-made cage.

They chose to escape to a numbing high,

While standing grounded, I just wonder why?

If you’ve ever loved a stoner, you know the ache,

Of begging them over again, just to stay awake.

Wishing for their presence, for them just to choose,

But they like the haze, and you always lose.

Loving them comes with a nasty sting,

Wasting time holding words meaning nothing.

Promises are made, but never upheld,

You are forgotten, you're love repelled.

They laugh, say it’s not a big deal,

It’s just weed, how dare you feel...

…that way

…that love

…that what you thought you’d keep,

You were enough, but fuck that hill is too steep.

But maybe that wasn’t a war to fight,

Not your battle… nor your right.

Let them choose the haze they love and know,

Perhaps your lesson is just in learning to let go.

Maybe one day they see the cost,

How in their detachment… a love was lost.

But that’s not for you to wait or to plan,

For they choose to numb, not to understand.

TB💞

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