Save A Deep Friendship

Save A Deep Friendship

Somehow there's nothing worse
than being under the curse
of being judged deeply bad
in a context that seemed mad
by someone you truly love.

No one's always as a dove...
we all have our break point.
And if with error we annoint
some moment with emotion
it's understandably commotion,
but rarely a condemnation.

To experience such frustration
can drive one to the brink,
with or without any drink,
of feeling nothing makes sense.
Everyone deserves recompense.

It is both cruel and unfair
circumstances not to care
in making absolute judgment.

To no court's such deafness' lent!
Face an accuser, and be heard
are rights never thought absurd.

Particularly in love crimes
are there conceivably times
when misunderstood motives
become the perpetrator's votives
driving him to madness & despair.
Punishment should be fair.
Otherwise victims both made
become both persons as bade
vengeance overrules crime
and becomes feud for all time.

In recent memory is a case,
set in real time and place,
where what was perceived
was by fact not relieved
and the guilty was so confused
he, too, felt hurtfully abused
by what he first saw as a joke
until his heart pulled the yoke
of her very real anger and hurt
which he found incredibly curt.

He suspects she was faking
so his love to avoid taking,
and thus so exaggerated
to force what may've been fated
as a doomed, futile adoration.
Her responses were aberration.

He admits he may've sinned
and by this himself skinned
his own self to bloody bone
in an attempt to partly atone,
but he sees it as a mistake
where a perceptual break
numbed him to her condition.

But he believes her perdition
was in her very real response
to his every intimate nuance...
and not some stupor as claimed.
Nevertheless he is defamed...
as if she had not often teased,
or he had never her often pleased.
To him, her lie was so bold, so legion
he felt compelled to leave the region

rather than face her disdain.
Upon his heart is the stain
of miserable full rejection.
And disallowed any correction,
he felt peculiar helplessness.

No secret, he'd gladly confess!
Confess his love and the error
that had become the terror
keeping him deeply isolated.
By no punishment so berated
could he have been nor remain.

His love had become a bane.
And she, too, must've lost
far beyond the real cost...
for he was oddly devoted.

By atonement love's truly connoted
when no crime was intended.
If her sense had been suspended,
he had not been aware of it,
and, as her responsiveness fit
the ministrations of affection,
the "coma" escaped detection.

He was angry when he left
feeling such deception bereft
of any love or feeling for him.
Never would he've acted a whim
to have in any way hurt her.
He was normally very proper.
And even when accused as gay
no angry words did he say.
Now at least she knows better

than to think him on a fetter.
He knows she knows feeling
from which sense was reeling
after plans and threat that night.

Not that he said it was right,
but he asks forgiveness soon...
yet from her silence doth croon
a vengeful, illogical spite.
Two wrongs make no right.

It would justice please
if one might somehow appease
with apology and regret.
If understanding can forget
this excess emotional slip
it may save a deep friendship.

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