Friday, October 1, 2010

To my Lord Herc

My lord, fret not thy lost hero
For this beast is foul of breath and touch
Let not this loss cripple thy heart for this opens thee up
To what you my Lord dare ask thy knight?

Why it opens thee to roses with thorns that thou now can see
To sonnets that thou now can disbelieve
It grips thee not with curiosity but wit
Of a love that would never let thou slip

For only a fool would not see
A gem as thou gleam to be
A foresight thy new man will have
To see that the dame and the warrior walk in thee hand in hand

Still he be there to tend a wound
Thou let fester because of thy grief
Not with illusion would thy new love proclaim itself
But will abdicate his pride to have thee for his own


Don't be an ass. Let him go if he wants to be with another loser.Find a winner. It takes one to know one.

1 comment:

What do you think?