my arms

My arms    are not an arsenal  my head is not a bomb,  -                                                                                                    my heart not just a cannonball-...blasting through this throng  My lips are not two thrashers for beating nouns all day.-My eyes. .they are not open-sites..  for blowin' you away. My skin is not an armour, I carry not a shield  My hands they are not bayonettes .No musket do I wield  I have hurt. .been hurt and still I do and realize that you hurt too.. what good could all these hurtings be ?... if you won't risk more love ..on me? My arms could be a cache of strength,  holding you so near, My head could be a constant, regarding you so dear .My hands could stop your hurting, my lips could stop your fear.        It seems to me catch 22 causes all this pain ...we just can't stop our hurting until we learn to love again