PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I am the groomer of men.

They come to me with broken,

bleeding spaces where a heart once stood;

I make them laugh.

I make them see that the

Universe is not against them.



They step into my world,

And let me fix their cracks,

They let me take my

fat buttery hands and rub them over painful stinging

Word-burns.



I give them back what it is they think is gone;

Their belief that

Love will conquer.



I read them stories,

Perfume their days,

Let them back into the arms of comfort.

They reward me with burden and loss.



Burden they place on me with big lonely eyes

Pleading for a fix, a patch, a piece of tape,

To hold their crumbling psyches together.



Loss they lay at my feet when they leave;

Off to find the one who brought them to me in the first…

Searching for the one they can save,

The one who needs them.



They do not see my need.

To them I am a needless creature,

lugging around a thousand pounds of

Completely independent flesh.



But I am cold and reduced,

Relegated, once again, to cat lady status.