The Stealing Of A Heart Poem by Bill Mitton

A thief, who didn't know my crime
nor the victim of my deed
I only knew the sudden surge
the clash of love and need.
The heart that beats so close to mine
was it never free to take.
The love I claim, is it just in trust?
Did I simply dull an ache?

To be judged on distant shadows,
and values from the past.
So that every small comparison
cuts deeper than the last
to lie awake and ruffle through
the ifs and buts and whys.
and in every pondered heartbeat
wonder, did I steal nothing but a lie?