I see so many dating profiles where people categorize themselves as being a “Hopeless Romantic”. To such women, I wrote this:
Nobody/
should ever be/
a hopeless romantic./
That would be tragic./
Always be hopeful.
Then life’s more full.
Others will draw near
when we’re full of cheer.
The optimistic me
is who women would rather see.
And it also is true:
I prefer a hopeful you.
It brings me heartfelt sorrow and duress
to watch romantics wallow in hopelessness.
I’m told: “Turn right”. I/
do, and learn that God knows I’m/
lost before I do.
I can be blessed for/
doing good by desiring/
to do good always.
What changes must I/
make in my life to be found/
worthy in His sight?
It doesn’t matter/
if folks oppose God’s servants,/
as long as I don’t.
OR
It doesn’t matter/
if folks oppose God’s servants,/
‘cuz I never will.
Who am I? Father,/
son, friend, writer. Above all,/
I’m a Child of God.
Why do I play in/
fields of weeds and tares, when I/
know where the truth grows?
Good people pray hard/
to help us through word and deed./
Let’s help them bless us.
— of President Eyring, weeping April 2 11:20 a.m.
I do this, and I/
do that, just like her former/
guy. Sigh. Say goodbye.
He wished he could speak/
whispers to her and turn her/
enough to join him.