He smiled at me in his smug and condescending way
and I was angered by the vanity that led him to believe
that he was everything to me.
His ego so immense that it prevented him
from stepping back to see the picture as a whole
a mosaic, of which, he was but a tiny fragment.
In the beginning love had blossomed in me
but suppression and constant neglect had caused it to wither and die.
like the strongest flower on the vine, when robbed of light and trod upon.
In error he mistook my patience as proof of an unquestioning love.
He dwelled on the superficial things that I was not...and never could be.
Exploring the depths of my being, to find the beauty of my soul,
held little interest for him.
thus he missed a treasure that was his for the taking.
Knowledge and peace and self-love filled this vessel of mine.
but he drained it and gave nothing in return.
He thought that his leaving would diminish me.
make me less than I was, in some way.
In actuality, his going, was the lifting of a burden that left more of myself for me.
Now here he is back again with that same smug self serving smile.
Planning to resume where he left off;
Orchestrating my life, directing my thoughts, owning my soul.
But I have grown and moved on with my life.
And so, though he doesn't yet know it;
he will forever more be,
just the tiniest fragment in the mosaic of my life.
Copyright D. W. Rickard (