The Labor of Love
by Deborah A. Bowman
Should it hurt to love someone?
Accept their barbs, lies, and the battles they’ve won?
That left you trampled in the dust, desolate and confused.
Or should you just turn away, separate yourself, be a recluse?
There can be peace and freedom from no interaction
From those who we are expected to love without condition.
Guilt seeping in with every whispered taunt.
Trying to accept and believe, but left only in want.
Sometimes it’s best just to lie down and rest,
Safe from the anger, jeers, and jests.
Sometimes it just isn’t funny anymore.
The time will come when you need less to achieve more.