Love and Loss


She whispers that she loves me in my ear,
not quite loud enough for anyone to hear,
I tell her I'm not ready for a relatioship right now,
the poet in my soul whispers romantic things as I bow,
and I hope to tell her that things are difficult,
but everything adds to insult and it's not her fault,
relationships have never been my way,
until I see the moment trapped in the day,
I'll always be frightful of connection to another,
and espically of her dearest father,
my journeys end lies ahead,
and very soon I shall be dead.