Like Hemlock to Socrates
Mistletoe carries the finest kiss
of death
Its pale skinned berries ooze
with poison
To the lips of the taster
This symbol of love has its own
hidden danger
But
Doesn’t all love carry
uncertainty?
When tasted for the first time?
It certainly has the potential to
Fall from your heart like these
berries
To be picked up and eaten by the
Cruel hand of circumstance
By the ivory fangs of the world
around you
Yet
New lovers embrace with happiness
blinding their eyesight
Underneath
The Mistletoe branch
Never happier
Yet
Never knowing what lies
Just under the surface
This poem is from my book : Petals Falling
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