Second Chances

I never want to let hope's cup fill, at least not in this, romance's regard; yet something now stays the bitter cynic's swill, tells me to maybe, this time, let down my guard. I only want this not to be one more closed door, one more false lead in a chase already too old; I'm sick of "not this time", tired of "just one more", had enough of "sorry" being all that's left to hold. So I'm torn, between pining and the past, between dipping one foot and diving in; I'm not sure I know how, after I fell last, and one foot out the door is how I've been. If I wish to avoid playing once again the fool, then the head has a place in matters of the heart; but perhaps I need to plunge right into that pool, and give something good at least a chance to start.