A riddle written in a necklace

I vowed it to myself one day.

You may get to the actual war

But you’ll never know your way.

Out of the mouth of babes

It was an honor to bestow.

What began with a writing of a woman

Ended with something of a crow.

He says something to me

To attempt to get me to respond.

I hid the truth in my poems

Oh look at what we’ve spawned.

I have forbidden myself to love again

It’s the truth, I’ve set it free.

Someone may get a little part

But they’ll never have all of me.

One sentence I keep repeating

One you thought you knew.

It’s the one about loving yourself,

“To thine own self be true.”

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