Thwarted desires hurt far worse than bruises;
Both throb, but only one can be repressed.
An injury ignored in good time loses
Its deadly sting, but wishes unexpressed
Burrow within the mind, making it twist
In ugly rotten shapes around the hole.
Those who are stopped from doing what they list
Are in some peril for their larger soul.
Not that I think there should be license for
Whatever villainies men wish to do
But rather that we ought to think before
We simply squash all hopes. I longed for you
And, thwarted, that caused pain; now, spoken, known
It is the opposite. Thus joy is sown.
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