A Letter To The First One I Let In. Comments

This gripping poem becomes my own, as informed verse should. So very moving, inexpressible. It has happened to me in this lifetime that I have opened all, given all, healed her wounds and restored her heart, then numbly watched as she went off to another. I began to imagine myself as some kind of service waystation, who mended broken lives then let them away, off to some better thing. Now, as an outcome, the more deeply I recollect a love in the remote past, the more I will stay distant. Although in recent years, one or two loves from before, who have remembered me as well, would not be put off and have stayed. That may only happen once older, though I would rather have my youth again to share.