He knocked gently upon my door.
I walked hesitantly across the floor.
"Open your heart," he did implore.
I did and, then, he was no more.
Like a whisper in the wildest wind,
he left me silent from beginning to end.
I thought he was my loving friend
but he was only, "Just Pretend."
Now my heart is closed and sealed,
locked and bounded up to heal,
closed forever, unwilling to feel,
never knowing a love that's real.
A moth drawn to flickering flame
has no one else but itself to blame.
For playing with fire like a game,
wings will burn to cinders of shame.
Do not come knocking at my door.
I will not walk across that floor.
For anyone who may implore,
I'm not answering anymore.
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
Read 551 times
Written on 2006-05-20 at 08:11
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