Promises or B is for Broken

The problem with promises
Is that they are far too easy
To break.

Urban decay. Falsas Promesas Broken Promises, ...

Urban decay. Falsas Promesas Broken Promises, John Fekner, Charlotte Street Stencils, South Bronx, NY 1980. John Fekner (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Some crumble quietly
Leaving a trail of heartache
And pain in their wake.

Others crash spectacularly
When they are broken
And no one is left untouched.

And then there are those promises
That slip slowly into nothingness
Broken without intent
Or malice
And the hurt never ends.

Notes: This is part of the A-Z series of blog entries where I promised to write each day for 26 days (excepting Sundays) using the alphabet as a thematic scheme. The letter A came easily and I thought that this writing challenge would be no problem. Writing every day would be easy. I had lots of B ideas in my head–Books, Bitches, Brothers–all subjects I could knowledgeably write about. After a few days I realized what my real B word was–Behind. I had barely started this initiative and already I was falling behind in my promise to myself. So here’s B. Broken. I promised I would write every day and I broke this promise. I’ll try again tomorrow. Or maybe not. After all, it is Sunday, my writing day of rest.

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