(Maybe I Shouldn’t Wear My Heart on my Sleeve)

Just a hopeless romantic;
a fool with a heart,
going through life
with this need to be loved.
A minstrel of love songs,
a purveyor of mirth,
a reason to rhyme,
waxing poetic and often ,
hoping to soften the blows
of a misguided emotion,
lost in devotion to one so fair.
In my eyes, a vision,
a purposeful wanting,
desires unfolding,
in scope and breadth.
The vacancy sign
worn like a badge
high on my shoulder,
an advertisement.
A prurient “want” ad
reading as such:
“Hopeless romantic,
a fool with a heart,
looking for same.
No need to reply,
I’ll know by your sign.
Worn on your sleeve,
the same as mine”


  1. I have been loving your poems, as always, Walt. Always love to hear what you have to say, whether it makes me chuckle or want to cry. I wrote a little short poem dedicated to you after April PAD, and when I read it later I thought "that could be taken soooo not how I meant it." If you have no clue what I'm talking about, great. 😉 If I piqued your curiosity, I would be glad to email it to you. Someone once told me I overspiritualize things. I laughed and said, "I can't help it. I'm a poet at heart. It's how I'm built." Thanks, Walt, for reminding me this year that pumping out GOOD words is not as common as the digital age makes it out to be. You have GOOD words.

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