The Divide. A poem.

The divide that’s grown between
has widened over time—
the subtle, well-toiled furrow,
now a rift, of deep decline.

When did this passionate divide
become more like a gulf?
And when did our discussions
become a chore, less worthy of?

No enmity in this regret,
just bitter disappointment.
The trials and travails, it seems,
one more source of discontentment.

The divide that’s grown between,
a living end for all our crimes.
The divide that’s grown between,
a border, now defined.

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

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