Take

Take.
To leave nothing...
If you will.

I am not afraid to go without.
I am not in doubt,
I can create more.

Take.
That's what you do.
That's how it has been,
Between me and you.
I am accustomed to it!
Going through that before.

Each time you call.
Or knock on my door.
I know what your presence means.
I know what you've come for.
It is a familiar scene done you do too well.

Take.
No need to tell me to go to hell.
Each time you come,
You bring it with you.
And leave.

Take.
That's what you do.
That's how it has been,
Between me and you.
I am accustomed to it!
Going through that before.
Each time you call.
Or knock on my door...
I hide my peace.
That's mine.
I'm not ready to give that away.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!