Strings Attached

When I was young,
I blew my heart up like a balloon,
and attached
it to a pretty, pink string,
and I'd walk around
the block with it every morning,
happy that it was all mine.
And even when the
neighborhood kids would ask nicely,
with all of the manners their mammas
had taught them,
I'd never let them carry it,
because there was no point
in sharing something
that was all mine.

But, when I grew up a little,
I'd carry it with me
to school,
along with my pink lunchbox,
and an apple for my teacher everyday,
and I'd let some of my friends
carry it with them for a bit,
sometimes even through the entire
recess period,
and I learned to love sharing.

But, when I was a teenager,
I'd leave it at home
floating right above my bed
when I went to school,
and took my cd player
and books with me instead,
and I had no friends to
carry it during recess,
and not even an apple for the teacher
everyday anymore,
and I never thought about sharing.

But, when I was in college,
I wiped the dust off of it
and took it on a date with me,
with a real nice guy
that my friends had set me up with.
And that night,
I let him carry it the whole night
through, and he didn't
give it back that night, nor the next,
until he gave me a ring, and I gave
him my hand,
and it wasn't sharing anymore,
it was only giving.

But, when I was married, with children,
I'd carry it around with me always,
just so I could let my
children take it
when they were feeling bad
and needed a little help through
the trials and pains of growing up,
and I'd let
my husband take it,
along with a kiss on the mouth,
whenever he had had
a bad day at work.
Bright and smiling, they all
learned to share,
and give to each other.

But, when my children were grown,
I gave them my heart,
on its pretty pink string
when they left on vacations,
or weren't going to see
me for a while,
and whenever they'd return it to me,
they'd have a new story
to tell me, about their
adventures out into the world,
and with their children,
and how they taught them to share.

And when I became old enough to touch
death's door,
I left my heart
on its pretty pink string
to all of my loved ones,
and strode through death's door,
as my loved ones
shared my heart among themselves,
and smiled, instead of cried,
as the door closed behind me.