The longest time ebbed by
As the verdict was being decided -
Was I the fool? Was it my fault?
I thought I was and yet, as the days
Crawled by, a realisation crept
Into my mind: perhaps I was not a fool
To give him my love. How was I to know
That he would abuse it?
If I did not give it, I would never have known,
And, if I were too afraid to give love, there are
So many things in my life that I would never
Have had; so many things that made my life
Matter, that taught me about myself.
I shall not be afraid to love, to trust, to help -
Perhaps the fool is the man who takes those things
But never even thinks to give.
That man is lonely, and people turn their backs
To him; they know how he is,
And - whether he sees it or not - he feels the sting
Of rejection, of the consequences that he feels
He does not deserve... The fool cannot be helped
If he will not listen and is unwilling to learn.
The one who tries to help the fool is not, themselves,
A fool - just a person with a virtuous heart.
YOU ARE READING
Refraction.
PoetrySo many aspects, colours and themes make up our experiences. Truly, is anything entirely good or entirely bad? Upon weighing up the positives and negatives of the past, do we not admit that even tragedy is- in a twisted sort of way- advantageous? O...
