~

Every love becomes hate story,
is a circle with three sides…

There is his and there is hers,
both are desperate to advise…

Each with a made up version,
of what they want you to hear…

Both twisting and distorting,
to custom fit your listening ear…

Then somewhere in-between,
all the hurt and all their lies…

Quietly sits the third side,
that neither party can disguise…

It’s the heart of the matter,
forged from the purest truth…

One no detective can decipher,
not even Sherlock the great sleuth…

It’s the grey area that’s ignored,
the facts that fiction glazes over…

The real reason for their pain,
like an unwelcome hangover…

Because this version will not bend,
it refuses to be subjective…

And without any feelings,
it remains true, cold and objective…

So no matter what is said,
by each or either party…

Who will spin and try disguise,
to ensure the waters are murky…

It remains something honest and
for that reason it’s overlooked…

But when listening to each story,
it needs to be fished and hooked…

And dragged into the picture,
before any judgement is made…

Or you think of taking sides,
between the light and the shade…

Because care needs to be taken,
before believing versions of their story…

And choosing between his and hers,
as they bend and rewrite their history…

~