It is and can be rather awkward,
When...
Feelings felt for another makes them run.
Awkward it is,
When...
The one that runs,
Does it and not for fun.
With a doing done that keeps them on the run.
Oh yes this is not confessed,
But the feeling remains awkward...
Then.
To keep what is felt to stay within.
Awkward it is,
When...
Meeting of that one who ran,
Happens again.
And that feeling one felt before returns,
To hear the runner express confessed love.
Awkward it is,
When suspicion is invited.
Awkward it is,
To be excited and yet cautious.
Awkward it is,
To keep feelings for another.
When a memory is kept,
As to 'who' had the druthers to run...
To return without an explanation done.
Accept one!
'I'm sorry I ran.
But I had forgotten an appointment I made earlier.'
~Uh...
Huh?
This is rather awkward.
I'm left not to know what it is I feel.
I had not heard from you in weeks.~
'Well...
At least you are not like the others.
I can see you are patient and understanding.'
Awkward it is,
When...
Meeting of that one who ran,
Happens again.
And that feeling one felt before returns,
To hear the runner express confessed love.
~Uh...
Huh? ~
'Well...
At least you are not like the others.
I can see you are patient and understanding.'
~What? ~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hmm.. I think we've maybe all been in this position once or twice! At least the older of us! Lol. Nicely done!