all I had given proved too much for the recipient--

too much passion and not enough consideration--

and though I listened and commiserated

there was no confidence in a restless roving eye

to convince her that I heard--I listened--

to every word she said--

serves me right for the disdain I carried

for hearts that broke mine so far in the past

they couldn't remember--having moved on--

so for her was the dross mingled with the gold--

and for me the failure I didn't realize

I was asking for--

and even in this the heavens are merciful--

being all the better for our loss

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.