Blessing In Disguise Poem by Molly C. King

I watch the needle dip and dart,
Making a mess of a perfect heart,
The stitches weaved are unjustified,
They’d be better used on your bleeding pride.
You repeat that you will mend the wrong,
Which you insist you’ve brought upon,
A love, as tender as it was true,
And I hesitate in breaking the news to you.

This bond you speak of is overstated,
I am not hurt, lost, nor infuriated,
If it must, then let truth be spoken:
You hadn’t yet my complete devotion.
Keep quiet your apologies,
I tell you, I have no use for these,
You thought you broke the love I loaned,
But my heart is whole and still my own.

Now you claim that I wronged you,
By not giving up my world for you,
But I am not the one with a stranger’s scent,
Lingering upon a harsh regret.
And if truly you wish to know,
In matters of love, I am simply slow.
Had you longer been kind and true,
Your silly apology would have been due,
But I thank you and your shallow temperament
For saving me from so painful a predicament.