The Powerful Passion of First Love

Updated on January 14, 2018
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Brian Gray obtained his degree in Language from Lee University and has been a published author and professional writer since 1985.

First Love

The raging fire that is First Love plays on strings within us

A siren song that lures and causes loss of sense,

Passion that frightens with pain and joy so intertwined.

Our same drunken hearts laid naked without permission,

Fear of derision from someone completely uninvolved,

And all at once the need to hide from emotions

That expose us, our foolish pride,

Turns our faces, closes our eyes, and makes us deny

To those around us, and more, to the one we love

That we could even truly care so deeply and so full.

Then shield the heart, run away, lie instead of embrace

Deep freedom.

Feel nothing so we don’t feel anything,

Thus cure ourselves of this sweet ache.

Such great lengths of disguise, pretentious disdain,

Yet love’s pain denied is a waste,

And presents a heart to others that lies,

Removes our souls, and births an empty face.

A lesser love shall take the place

Of what once was.

Afar from paradise,

This soulless, loveless state thus born shall rule from then.

It shall design the mask that must be worn

To fool all others, and, at last,

Even our own hearts.

First Love was the only fire, all others merely candles

Lighted from the first,

And one by one, the lovers who come after,

Find us ever more emptier than the one before.

Games played, dues thus paid,

Are all for an empty god

Who was Love Lost, and heart cold,

The ruler of a life doomed to mediocrity and regret.

How sad that love that should have freed us

Scared us into the chains we chose,

Condemned to ever wish that we could have

That which we forever lost.

Time arrives when we have practiced

Avoidance and reticence,

Learned self-denial just to save face, to fit in

With those who matter not,

Till at last there is nothing left to offer

But tired and worn that no one wants to see.

The flower’s scent is for a season bloomed,

And we who see can also hear

The call of First Love,

For those who cannot are thus doomed

To find it blooms elsewhere,

Or not at all.

Brian Gray

January 14, 2018

10:09 p.m.


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    • Hanavee profile image

      Brian Gray 2 months ago from Pennsylvania


      Thanks for reading my latest work. Greatly appreciated.


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      Damian 2 months ago

      Enjoyed the poem. Thanks for sharing.

    • Hanavee profile image

      Brian Gray 2 months ago from Pennsylvania

      Louise Powles,

      Thank you for reading my latest work. First love is always a landmark in our lives, and I wonder where all of us would be if we had been able to stay with our first loves. Hard to understand all of the reasons first loves never worked out.


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      Louise Powles 2 months ago from Norfolk, England

      That's lovely. I remember my first love, and it was lovely. First love is always very special.