Maybe I was too precious.
Maybe I should have had a thicker skin.
That way I wouldn’t have let the hurt in.
But then I wouldn’t have had that poem.
The equation holds.
Sometimes the best poems come from the deepest hurts.
But maybe I could have tried forgiveness too.
Chelsea spotted it in her comment.
‘Ha! Often that rail has a broken line’.
Maybe I had offended him. I’m not dim
But I am slow.
I should be building bridges. Not walls.
But then I would have had a different poem.
A more upbeat one.
I will try/