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There Goes My Heart
There goes my heart again,
and it's not the first time;
it's not to frolic,
no,
it's far too old to frolic
the church elders told me and taught me.
In Sunday School
I learned how to earn grace,
and in Sunday School
I was taught
and fed.
And I'd blame you.
I know you think I blame you,
but really I'm just tired.
I wondered indeed why
I couldn't never muster up the rage
or at least the contempt
I should feel even now.
And man,
I wish I could drink.
I mean,
I CAN drink.
Trust me, I can drink
if given the opportunity,
but the old vagrants
can afford better hooch than I.
No, this is it.
This is the grand and wonderful blessing
I'm given for putting you first
all those years.
Last few words:
not ready at all. Thought I had something, but have a block and am saving this here to come back to later.
Edit: Added a bit more, but still a WIP
Editing stage:
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Comments
weirdelf
Tue, 2016-06-14 11:52
... because you have too much compassion to do that.
I felt this poem deeply. Even the fatigue.
No matter how genuine and un-affected the poem, even though it is the perfect title, you can't use it. Too cheesy.
How about:
"There Goes Another One!" No, sorry, that was insensitive [smiles].
Or maybe:
"Grab The Butterfly Net, There Goes My Heart Again". No, too Leunig.
You'll think of something.
cheers,
Jess
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