Form: Rondeau
Love hurts actually, when kisses turn
To tears as old passions no longer burn;
The tender words are gone in screams of hate,
And patient feelings pause in nervous wait
For the next time love turns to mock and spurn
The heart that sees all, continues to yearn,
While hoping dreams of forever return
Yet knowing it’s already far too late,
Love hurts actually.
The envying eyes that curl like a fern
With lying lips that voice a fake concern
To strip the senses as the dreams deflate
The broken heart has naught to compensate;
If only it could simply start to learn
Love hurts actually.
©JG Farmer 2013
A Garret Poet 