A Flawed Place
By John Herlihy
A flawed place in the fabric of his heart,
He knew not its whereabouts, not now or ever.
Without his knowing, there from the start,
His heart, after all, not something one can sever.
The day would come when he would find out,
He gave freely of himself, in kindness and mercy.
Until one day occurred when he had a doubt,
He realized some things affected him adversely.
Some people do not deserve a free kindness,
They take without giving in their own sinister way.
Why should his good will be a form of blindness,
In his act of giving, he ends up being the one to pay.
He had a flawed place in the fabric of his heart,
A place if discovered from which he still could not part.
Love ya!
Jane
Welcome back, John!
Sandie
Cheers,
Dan
This, then is the whole of your fantastic poem, John, and it is good to see you back from your travels. True enough that people do not deserve anything but scorn.
Ron