Why does the man with

The perfect life—

A wife and children

Who adore him—

Still run away?

He says he got

Too close to perfection.

Something pricked him,

And he grew afraid.

Nothing so beautiful

Comes without a price.

Not everything

Was meant to be held.

Even if you endure the pain,

Even if you smile

As if it doesn’t hurt.

What does the child learn

When his hand is piecered

Reaching for a rose?

That you should stay away

From what promises beauty

Because it will

Leave ugliness all over you.

And never—(never)—

Allow yourself

Too much joy.