Saturday, March 29, 2008

The Gift (31-Jan-1987)

Written so many years ago for another person and yet it is a reminder that there are some things we are forced to relive.

The Gift


If I come to you,
And stand before your door,
Don't ask me why I don't enter.

Don't even let me know you're inside.
I need to realize you're not there
So that I can turn and leave.

If I loved you once,
Then it is my fault.
If I loved you long,
It was not long enough.
But the fault there was not mine.

I offered much but was allowed to keep my gift.
It rots in my hands and soils my heart.
It is the one gift
That once given
We must not give;
That once taken
We must receive.

Why is the punishment the same
For those who will not give
As those who will not be received of;
For those who will not take
As those who are not offered?

Goodbye.

1 comment:

~beth ♥ said...

Relive we do ... over and over again.