Read this to yourself slightly aloud.
Or whisper it, just to you.
Then if this affects you like The Story of D did me, please tell me below, OK?
Since June 10, 1997
D REVISITED
It was a pretty good heart.
A little chipped around the edges, but it was mine.
Once or twice I had tried to give it away - with "love."
But this fragile heart was too loosely packed.

It wasn't looked after.
It's not that no one wanted it - they did.
But I wasn't careful with that pretty good heart.
It got tossed aside and broken;
I did not know what to make of it.
At first I just left it there (like "road kill").

What to do with it? I didn't know....
So I let the pieces lay, untended.
I knew where they were, but I walked away.
Many years passed. Then.... it called me. It needed....
something.

I realized that this smashed, trampled, crumbled thing was still MY heart;
it was the only one I had.
So I picked up the pieces, one by one, and I reclaimed them.
I began....very gingerly.... putting them back together.
How could that have ever happened....

Now I'll try to be more careful with it.
I'll listen to it more.

Because it was mine, it called to me.
So I was compelled to look.... what was this forgotten mess?
Now I see that it still sparkles.

It still reflects wonder, beauty, life, and joy,... and pain. It can still do that.
(It's a pretty good heart.)

Yeah, I had tried giving it away, that pretty good heart.
But I took it back.
Because it's MINE.

1997 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.