Sun For The Rusted Heart Poem by Dominique Lorraine

Why do I miss- every rainfall of smiles
Accounted- the passions eyes let wild,
Yielding not Love’s leaking fluidity,
‘Til Love sees I’m blind…? It acquitted me-
See it flee! - before I dared to deem truth
In your polished heart. There I witness youth,
And from it I depart, though our faces
Will prove the same in our numbers- graces
Of the powerfully withered not in me
Nor my attempt to flee naivety.
You are one- and one is any- and all
Boys in the time to be men where befall
Them shiny feelings. I’ve seen such be jested
With- worst whilst was mine- ‘til years have tested
Volatility and thickness in strength.
Rusted too soon, I am, that time in length
Matters not. Alas, who needs lines of laughs
And the sun? - while internal scars will craft
My age! Again, though, I deepen a thought
I ‘fore expressed, scars will build me not
A temple of wisdom, a veil of light
Like the fire balding owls see bright.
And so! Of that which I search and perceive,
It is not which I should. Honesty grieves
From within true lovers hearts, for in none
I rely ‘til my lids flutter at the sun.