Fantasies Of A Poet
When I think of the emotions wasted on you,
It burns me out. Through and through.
I showered you with all my affection.
All I ever got was just rejection.
Makes me wonder if others would?
I feel ousted out, like rotten wood.
Then, I met her briefly, and I was hooked.
I saw her by a bubbling brook.
It was a beautiful day in the park.
When I talked with her I felt a spark.
A small fire starting in my heart.
Desire, but not knowing where to start.
I have to quit writing these poems.
Get dressed and grab some coins.
Find her again and let the fire grow.
Then, I think about why I was feeling low.
I don’t know if I could take more rejection.
It would be harder than losing an election.
But, I will never know if I don’t try.
I strap down my heart and prepare to die.
I may be headed for another crash landing.
I know a relationship takes understanding.
When I was with her we seemed to click.
Maybe getting to know her is the trick.
If she likes poetry, I will write her one.
Make it a happy one, just for fun.
There will be a method to my madness.
In the end, I pray for gladness.
I have nowhere to go, but up.
I just need to make sure I don’t get in a rut.
—————————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)