I have not a single reason
To be trusting of you yet.
Which is not to make a statement either way.
But I have felt the knife before,
And I will not forget,
The scars upon my back that shall remain.
If you are borne of malice,
How would I really know?
And how stupid of me would it be to trust?
If I sleep for just a second,
Or let my expectations grow,
I am inviting more a hazard than I must.
Because I am a fool,
I am very much aware
Exactly quite how easy I am thrown.
And so I am more careful
Not to open up or dare
For fear of those who are more cancer prone.
So it will be some time,
If it even will be ever,
Before I think of putting down my shield.
And if it were to happen,
It would be a rare endeavor.
There is not a single soul to whom I yield.
And if I may speak frankly,
I see no reason yet to budge
Or to even give a single inch of ground.
But I would be delighted,
Sweet as Reese’s triple fudge,
If such a simple reason could be found.
Until I am more willing
To be broken yet again,
It appears I shall remain a hollow husk.
But I should live to sixty,
Plenty time to bring me pain,
Or maybe even faith again to trust.
