I’ve been jilted one too many times.
Sympathy has been removed from my line.
Call me stupid and name me weak.
See how many times those things you get to repeat.
Before I make you re-analyse.
Trust me it’ll be seconds until your cries.
Cause I won’t let you succeed where you should fail.
And when I’m done you’ll be behind a veil.
Begging for forgiveness from all you’ve wronged.
You’ve been beaten far too much.
It’s why you need no wooden crutch.
For you have grown into a wall.
Impenetrable no matter what may be the tool.
Yet in quiet moments you are soft.
But not in a way that suggests you are crows short in the loft.
Maybe that’s why we gel so well.
Because you are like me and we both fell.
Though never will we ever again be torn asunder.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 