Poem: Lines
I have brought my beggar-bowl to the threshold of your misery; I have shattered my heart against the stone of your vanity; I have nailed my happiness upon the coffin of your cruelty; When I let myself love you, I accepted the inevitable, and it's not what is happening that hurts but what should have happened, inevitably. -------- --------------- ----------------- --------------- ----------- from Burnt Offerings 1996