Happily ever after

Once upon a time a song of rhyme was written,
It went along the lines of modern times, love; smitten.
Boy meets girl, emotions swirl, and devastation must ensue.
End of the world when a heart breaks with the preservation of the two.

Incapable of facing the facade and the flaws,
Ignoring questions and suggestions, dodging them all.
Is it true love? Is divorce even an option?
Of course,
The coarseness of the beaten path is often left forgotten.
Yet its all for nought;
awful distactions plague and mock an authors thoughts.
He's lost in moments, where to hone it,
he must focus on the tone he sought.
A spoken truth, art; prevalent among those known as composers of plots.
But as a rose grows from the pavement; it still shows that the root will rot.
A weak base meant the speech faced criticism and backlash,
And with a cynical take on the rap he decides to trash that.
Scratch it and step back,
Let the piece lead him to where his pens at.
Started as a love story; ended as a brag track.
"...the guys wack!"
Is all he can finish with as he sees a verse that he laughs at.

Back to the present,
florescent light bulbs accent her essence.
The woman he married exits after making his entrance.
Head in a book again, staring at his nook with a grin,
Developing storylines ignoring the beauty that was looking at him.
Transfixed with the talent that balanced his moods,
Unfinished poems and verses lie scattered, lacking a Muse.
He tries in vain to hide disdain for his own emotionless pieces,
Unbeknownst to him,
his idols prospered in writing about love because they never achieved it.
Lonely authors speaking of things they only believed they perceived,
While he tried to mirror they're techniques about the one thing he received.
Monetary values were worthless to the men seeking more,
Yet to the man that chased adoration, the world lay ignored.

His wife of 20 years feeling like the authors that her husband loved,
And in a moment of self revelation she sighed as she shrugged.
She picked up a pencil and paper off the table he wrote at,
And with her own hopeless feeling she scribbled a note back.
"To the man that I married, and bore children for,
I write to say I love you, and I'll continue forever more.
You showed me the meaning of life, happiness undiluted,
But these past few years you've ignored me and our loves became polluted..."
She stopped there, weeping, trying to hold her composure,
But the lackluster effort faded as she gave up on closure.
Suddenly her husband walked in and noticed her tears,
Walked over to comfort her kissed on her ears.
He read what was written and became smitten again,
Realizing what he's been missing, had also been missing him.
The pain in a poem was more powerful than rhymes,
Love conquers all, but not all the time.
From that day forward he appreciated his wife,
For not only loving him but giving his writing new life.
He learned after years of failure that true agony can't be mirrored,
Sorrow is something only unhappy people can see...clearer.
He finished his heartfelt poems and ended the chapter,
While kissing his wife he wrote
"...and they lived happily ever after."