Promises made,
and promises broken.
A heart once whole,
sculpted by trust and nurturance,
is now fragmented by someone else’s fear.
I will help you any way I can,
but what can I do when I’m here, and you’re there?
Read a paper, make a call,
a little help is never that small.
Ok. I’ll do my best.
Time marches on,
and General’s almost gone.
Slipping through my hands,
faster than the water obsorbed by the desert sand.
I love him, but he’s leaving me.
I’ll never be the same, don’t you see?
Knowing if you did your part,
I would never have had a broken heart.
What is your best?
Don’t I matter?
I guess I’m not meant to be happy,
just sad and sadder.
He was my family.
The only one left.
Now he,
like mommy,
will also leave me.
Who do I have now?
I promised him, I would take care of him forever.
You promised me,
that you would help make that be.
Say what you mean,
and mean what you say.
If you do, your friendship will never astray.
Where are we?
Michelle Poet
February 28, 2000