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Poem

We cannot mimic the cry of a loon. Nor capture the light of the moon.
We'll never reach a distant star. Both too high and much too far.
Yet we search, both hither and yon, Seeking that magical bond.
Love is fragile all too often. It melts a heart and makes it soften.
There's no escape when we're caught in the trap set by the heart.
It doesn't matter who we are, when love becomes a tug of war.
There's no way of putting back, the yolk of an egg that's been cracked.
No band aid has ever healed a wound. It merely covers, but too soon,
The cut, shielded and protected, is exposed revealing it's been infected.
Toxins of the most poisonous kind take away joy and peace of mind.
It's sad, yes, but it's also true, knowing there's nothing more to do.
The road to love can be quite long, and longer yet when it goes wrong.
There are hazards, twists, and turns. Flaming words leave lasting burns.
Depressing are all these thoughts. Morbid ramblings of a wounded heart.
Time heals all wounds, so they say. It's true. Time took my pains away.

These next words I speak to you, Love:

Take heed to my words of scorn. Listen to me, Love, it's you I warn.
Don't bother trying to build a defense. For you there is no recompense.
No payment for the hurt you caused. And no compensation for your flaws.
Embittered and torn, I am no more. But don't knock again upon my door.

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