The idea came to mind one day
a good deed to do.
A little good deed that neither boasts
nor causes shame.
And thus began the Will's difficult endeavor
of impregnating heart,
with those gentle "One-coulds!" and "One-shoulds!"
till the heart was softened.
The little good deed grew in that heart.
But upon drawing its first breath it knew
it could not flourish on such shallow soil.
To the right, sluggishness took hold,
broadly smiling under heavy eyelids.
To the left, crouched cowardice, drab and grey.
And hovering above, with tenaciously beating wings,
the ungainly Cupid of self-love.
Appalled, the little good deed perished.
And the heart, suffering a miscarriage,
seized up and closed upon itself.
"Never again!" declared the owner of that shrunken heart.