For All Mankind
That you see all that that hangs there on the sleeves of my ruined gray shirt,
That you see all that that I speak, and all the words that I choose,
I hope that you see more than I make you,
and all that I make you I hope you do.
Because all that I am hangs in the balance of your hands,
and all that I was hangs on my shoulders,
heavy and unyielding.
I want you to call me love,
but only if you want to.
You, I love.
I love, you.
I've been writing a bunch of these poems for a year now, and this collection has gotten very close to my heart, I hope all of you enjoy it.
R&R. With love, W.