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Her Only Bad Habit Is Me
We walk hand in hand
through our world today.
We will walk that way forever,
if bad habits don’t get in the way.
Now she has only one bad habit,
and that habit is me.
If I do something wrong,
she does not see my failing there.
She would rather go on loving,
the man she chose to care.
Now my bad habit shine like a beckon,
but she does not really care.
So though we wander with love,
through to the sunset somewhere.
I think of how lucky I am,
with everything I see.
So glad she has only one bad habit,
and that habit is me.
14 June 2007
poem
by
David Harris
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