Fear.
It's what keeps me
from letting people in.
What keeps my knife's song
quiet and east to cover.
I've been hurt
and abandoned
so many times
that I won't let anyone in.
Not really.
I leave them at the door
or in the yard.
To the people that have left me
you've made me lock-up
my heart.
Refusing
everything
and everone
that knocks.
Can't trust anyone,
they'll only leave you
as soon as they know
the real you
or they find someone else
they think is better.
Fear.
Beautiful
BEAUTIFUL thing.
Nov.-27-09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem