in a winter market (2)

The conversation turned to 
Each, our latest breakup; 
The guy she thought she loved, 
And then, the gal I thought loved me -- 
And how she wanted, now, no more 
Than good coffee and freedom, 
While I was seeking inspiration, 
Music, and some peace. 

It was important right just then 
To be the unexpected, 
For something told me, everything 
Could fast go off the rails. 
It's strange how often I have been 
The guy that women trusted, 
And how I've tried to view that as 
A kind of sacred thing, 

Relationships come in all kinds, 
Varieties, and flavors; 
And sometimes being less 
Is something more.

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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