Something Gnaws At Me

Something gnaws at me

Shredding the scars of my heart

Left to bleed again

Cleanly cut by razor blades

Love’s left to spill on the floor

Why pain in passion

So much that it breaks the heart


Is not love the greatest joy

As promised from up above

Perhaps I’m fickle

Believing that love is grand

Like in fairytales

If this turns out to be false

Then I am a born victim


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

4 thoughts on “Something Gnaws At Me

  1. There’s a wonderful book I’m reading, “The How of Happiness” by a research psychologist. She asked her little son what “love” means and he said, “It means I want to kiss you a lot and live with you forever.” She says that’s a perfect definition of love. I consider her a true scientist.

    If love is a fairy tail, then I’ll choose to be its victim every time I’m born. It’s the only way to suffer meaningfully – except ice cream.

    Great poem! Thank you.


    • Thank you very much my friend, I appreciate your thoughtful and informative comment. I too would be a victim every time I’m born for the chance at love…and I’m with you on the ice cream as well. Well said.

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