Paradox

You don’t know me.

So, please, don’t be nice-

I am strong, but I’ve been known to fade.

And you don’t know me.

I am comfortable standing in the shade.

There’s no need for cruelty.

So, please don’t be nice.

You don’t know the half of it-

Even if you know about ‘fire’ and ‘ice’.

You don’t know me.

But, do sit down. Have a cigar.

Talk to me. You can tell me who you are.

But please don’t move your finger-

I am used to it being on that trigger.

You don’t know me.

And we never share a seat.

Though I am not sure you want to-

But I would have loved to chat a bit.

You never knew me.

So off you go- hop, skip and jump.

And I will catch just one more glimpse of that smile.

But, don’t worry. Nothing will be owed-

When you walk your perfect mile.