poem for the week. It was written when sometime after my divorce
Not for me
I must admit, sometimes I miss someone to hold.
But I can usually chalk it up to having a very bad cold.
Once when I thought I should start over with someone new,
I was relieved when the doctor said "You'll survive, it's just the flu"
I keep my heart, safe and secure, untarnished upon a shelf.
That way if for any reason my heart gets broken, I have no one to blame but myself.
I've been hurt so many times, by love I thought would be true.
I'm sure by now I'm listed in the heart-broken book of "Who's Who".
This experience has left me to believe that love is for the very foolish,
or better left in the capable hands of the very ghoulish.
Think about it, to give yourself to something you can't see.
Well as far as I'm concerned, you can have love. It's not for me!
