When one loves on rebound
One’s passion’s not intense.
One’s more cynical and one suspects
That happiness is hard to find,
And obstacles immense.
One does not weigh the fact one loves, But whether one is loved,
And rushes not but waits to measure How commitment’s proved.
The object of affection
Becomes wary, watching, too, And so there’s no connecting. Each awaits the other’s cue.
It’s like a modern dance,
Not together or in time.
Neither wants to take a chance,
For chance, they think, has no reason and no rhyme.
And so love passes by once more, Because they didn’t dare.
Faint heart cost one the prize this time. Love is meant to share.
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