Wearily Wayward: A Poem
Okay, maybe I'm being a little dramatic... but this is kind of how I feel about all the guys who want to date me right now. Sorry, boys. Come back later.
A poem by Rebecca Loomis
Don’t take my heart, it’s far too fragile;
I’ve given it away too oft’
And now I’m finding that I’d rather
Be alone, than pay the cost.
I bruise real easy under pressure.
A certain glance can reap a scar;
So now I’m bleeding, burnt, and battered,
And with each blow I’ve raised the bar.
Don’t bother to attempt to lure it
From within its sheltered cage;
It knows you bear but disappointment
With which to feed its tired rage.
What once was soft is coarse and brittle
Too stiff to open up its doors.
So do not knock, or call me lovely
It’s nothing I’ve not heard before.
Perhaps it’s not my heart that’s hardened;
For what you woo is but a hole.
My heart has since left its place vacant
To follow his own stubborn soul.
I wish I could say I survived it,
That I stood strong through wind and rain,
But sunken is this wayward ship,
And I’m not quite sure who to blame.