Poetry

Too Open (#408)

A single tear falls leaving a trail of lost dreams,
A single crack pulling the heart apart at the seams,
My compassion seems to be my armor’s chink,
Why do I allow myself to feel or even to think?
One would think I’d be better off heartless and cold,
Emotions are too reckless and should be controlled,
I should be the relentless hunter and not the prey,
And yet I can’t quite force myself to be that way,
It would seem I wear my heart on my sleeve,
And in the goodness of other people, I still believe,
Why is it I allow myself to open up and care?
My emotions only serve to wound and ensnare,

Any Thoughts?

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