High Maintenance
If I could somehow offer you
my heart on the proverbial silver tray
garnished with gold truffles
topped with a sprinkle of diamonds,
would it finally be enough?
Or perhaps I steal for you
the sweet hymn of heaven,
which only the archangels
have gloriously sung,
would you be satisfied?
Maybe even wrestle time itself
and plunder from its secret vault
the elixir of eternal youth
so age never touches your lush body,
could you be content then?
But the more important question may be
if I could do these wondrous things
if such miracles I could bring forth
as easy as buttering your bread,
why oh why would I waste them on you?
If I could somehow offer you
my heart on the proverbial silver tray
garnished with gold truffles
topped with a sprinkle of diamonds,
would it finally be enough?
Or perhaps I steal for you
the sweet hymn of heaven,
which only the archangels
have gloriously sung,
would you be satisfied?
Maybe even wrestle time itself
and plunder from its secret vault
the elixir of eternal youth
so age never touches your lush body,
could you be content then?
But the more important question may be
if I could do these wondrous things
if such miracles I could bring forth
as easy as buttering your bread,
why oh why would I waste them on you?
Copyright 2008. All rights reserved.
4 comments:
Ooooo--zing!
Ouch!
(And yet so accurate to a few of my past relationships.)
Wow! Nicely said if a bit brutal! :)
I thought it was a good last line, FF. :)
Kirsten, I think we've all had those people who think loving is taking. And they never stop taking. They're emotional vampires, and I offer this poem as a wooden stake! :)
Thank you, Gloria. Sometimes the truth is brutal.
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