Those We Love The Best

Ella Wheeler Wilcox | Nov 1850 – Oct 1919 | American

One great truth in life I've found,
While journeying to the West –
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.

The man you thoroughly despise
Can rouse your wrath, 'tis true;
Annoyance in your heart will rise
At things mere strangers do.

But those are only passing ills;
This rule all lives will prove;
The rankling wound which aches and thrills
Is dealt by hands we love.

The choicest garb, the sweetest grace,
Are oft to strangers shown;
The careless men, the frowning face,
Are given to our own.

We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those we love the best…