vanderwal.net

It is born out of fear, which leads to frustration.
The heart is to question when the logic does fail.

The words are simple. The action is easy.
But the doer is the blind man not seeing the trail.

Is that a hand for holding or a shoulder to hug,
will the words come out right or even at all?

The heart is beating and the mind is a mire,
will this be a great story or another big fall?

A step forward is taken, the heart has just stopped.
Just the fates know today if love will prevail.

The innards are at bottom, yet nothing has happened.
Could this be a step back or a minor detail?

The stomach is twisted, some knotted just thrice.
The heart only acting just like a third rail.

Is tomorrow a new day or a repeat of the same,
is a visit too much, or when should I call?

Logic in the back, for the heart has its hold.
Is there to be another chance or have I hit the wall?

Clear thoughts once with me, I know them not now.
Words fight for meaning but they know no avail.

It is born out of fear, which leads to frustration.
The heart is to question when the logic has failed.

25 June 1995

This was written in June 1995 and posted to the CompuServe Poetry Cafe.