Poetry

---

My heart is my worst enemy.
She whispers in my ear,
"Romance."
She seeks to steal my closest friends
and asks them all to dance,
a dance that's blind,
a dance that's death
to friendship--
they don't know the steps,
for who can dance before they walk
side by side and learn to trust
their partner
lest they trip and fall
and trample all the lust
on which the heart depends.
All relations end.
Hearts say goodbye,
leave souls to cry
because they never met,
but why?

A dance that's learned
before a walk
is dancing on hot coals.
No hearts can dance
in harmony
until they introduce
their souls.

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE