Call Me Matt

Why do I believe that, if I take
My heart from you, you'll suffer?
You won't even look at me. You
Act as if I am not there, and, if
You'd like to know the truth, I'm
Happier away from you. It makes
Sense, then, that I don't miss you
Much when you are not around,
But something in your secret glances,
Something in your quiet sadness,
Even in your petulence, suggests
That my heart still serves as the pad
That cushions you on those
Occasions when you fall.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 61 times
Written on 2017-01-16 at 23:02

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