My Love Was Hard Poem by James McLain

Knowing now that love is hard.
The woods we know were wet,
and cold and dark and miles to deep.
The air smells of old pine leaves.
Some thing we have always known,
our bed from childhood made.
Here is where I hold her maybe no.
It's something I have said aloud for me to
hang onto.
Not like a sexy thought.
More like a thinly veiled full moon.
But if she became pregnant could I
bare her name, would it be the same?
The Nuns said I must go.
There are no more fresh roses,
bushes without thorns to put my finger on.
After her father confronted me,
he wasn't wrong as she turned the home alarm off
it was then her window she then opened.
Silence was my greatest enemy out on the roof,
her sisters room was next to hers.
It was then I knew how hard my love would be.