Friday, March 26, 2010

A White Rose

A love like ours
is a solid ball,
pitching back and forth
between two kids that
don't really know the game.

Perfectly spherical at first,
shiny, smooth, but also slippery.
Each time we dropped it,
it chipped a little bit off-
a sharp pointy edge
to remind us of its fall.

Now its not smooth any more
A mass of jagged corners
That cuts us with each pass.
We can only wish for those days
When each throw was a joy.

I dropped the ball,
More times than I can count.
You're the better player, but
You've slipped up too.

Oh no, here it comes-
My hands are already bleeding.
I can see your blood on the edge
And that makes me feel worse.
I wonder if you hate the game now?

"Do you want to stop playing ?
I'll play as long as you want to."
Each one waits
for the other to say "enough".

But don't you wish for
that new ball that once was?
I wish I'd played better.
I hate when my mistakes
Cause your hands to bleed.

When did the rules get so complex?
Why are there rules, anyway?
It's a minefield
Where nothing's safe
to say or do anymore.

Here's a white rose
To say I'm sorry.
I know its happened before,
but I hope
Roses will soothe your hands once more.

Help me get my game better,
Help me take away the pain,
Let's learn the rules
All over again -
If you still want to play.

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