She remembers clearly
how it started out.
With a laugh.
Nothing much
to get excited about.
Or cry, or worry.
Or regret.
Then, without permission,
love arrived.
And stayed.
Until, without permission
it changed.
Forever.
Laughter, now scorn.
Respect, now contempt.
Excitement, now boredom.
Passion, now apathy.
Now anger oozes, fears rise.
Tears flow from
a river of sorrow.
Love evermore replaced
with emptiness.
Siobhan Livingstone
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/without-permission-3/
