0417 To A Small-Part Actress In The Drama Of My Life Poem by Michael Shepherd

Shall I compare thee to...a winter's night? ...I wish
I knew what so provokes...
is it me, is it you, is it us?
I try from time to time, to start afresh,
make overtures; but it's just like
a brick wall in the mind; as if forever you're defending
some unspoken matter from attack,
and so we all unwillingly take on the role
of chosen enemies.

What, behind this unexplained brick wall,
are you defending? So that every conversation
feels as if there's someone out there marking, like a boxing ring,
points scored? Even when you walk in through
the office door, it's like a challenge to a world
who handicapped you long before the start - so now
even your beautiful and natural blonde hair,
always so perfectly groomed and shaped and held,
seems to growl a challenge...but to whom?

I wish I knew - just for the sake, at first, of knowing;
and then, who knows, I might even sorrow for
that which so corsets all that yearns to yield...maybe;
and even love you for yourself...

but I think what really riles my man-mean mind
is that you behave as if, despite all this,
you've not a single enemy in the world...
that I find difficult to forgive...