I wrote this AFTER I had been belittled on aM and felt humiliated.
I misconstrued what I thought was a flirt
That I thought was kinda cool.
I confided too much and was made out to be a fool.
My long distance crush was time zones away
But irreverence displayed
Diminished attraction each day.
Caution to share was unduly delayed
And I was dismayed
When trust was betrayed.
Calling others "two-faced"
Was the "pot calling the kettle black"
"Always a friend" got stabbed in the back.
Someone called you "Hon" so you think he was flirting? Geez, I say that to lot's of ladies and I sure don't mean it as a flirt. What the hell is a LDC? Or an LDF? Have you been smoking something? Or maybe you need too. Nice poem but a crock of crap!
It's best never to divulge too much to strangers, especially on the internet.
You never know for sure what's out there.
@Tink: That's fer sure! That's fer dang sure!
I use hon, sweetheart, sweetie everyday in my line of work....I by no means am flirting with anyone! I think maybe you've read a little too much into simple terminology.....or maybe, just maybe...you wanted to see something that wasn't really there.
@Angela : Good answer and the truth!
Kinda figured that! :)
@MustangSilky : Welcome to the site. It's a nice site and I enjoy it. Hope you do too!
Thank you Darlin' it seems to be a nice site
Oh Dearest Ladyhorse,
I loved your beautiful and poignant verse SO much...
* * *
Too often we hurt each other, without intention...
Over a distance, or even face-to-face, the tenderest mention
We look deeply, we see the beauty, the mystery of the heart
And we miss the daily stumbles...the traumatic trusting part.
So we live and we love, and we learn from the hurt,
...and then we go on, and the world just turns.
@Virginia
Wonderful.
Hello, Ladyhorse, good morning:
Starting something new is tough -criticisms sound often rough;
riders know that when they dive,
climbing back helps them survive;
talents seek their proper taints,
words and gestures stir the paints,
blending laughter with complaints ...
Ok, well since everyone is writing poems, here's a little sonnet.
Though love's intentions oft-times come to naught,
And broken hearts are sadly slow to mend,
Such internet connections can be fraught
With just such disappointments in the end.
"What's done is done," Will Shakespeare wisely wrote,
'Tis best to sorrow not about the past,
But let it rest, and best your thoughts devote
To better things, to plans as yet uncast,
Because the present is what's in our hands,
With which, with wisdom gained from past events,
We plan a better future, in whose strands
Lie hopes for happier moments and intents.
Cheer up; it's hard I know, but for the best.
Please smile, deep breath, arise and don't be stressed.
Hats off, T(h)ink!
Thank you, Marianne!
You're very welcome, T(h)ink.
Why change the question to suit yourself when the answers you received to the "original" question weren't what you wanted to hear? Odd...very odd indeed.