I sit here alone, just waiting by the phone,
I'm feeling so sad, so frustrated and low.
My friends tell me to just to let it go,
but they don't understand, they just don't know.
My mind is so tired, my eyes a red haze,
I can't sleep at night, and I can't enjoy my days.
Your face haunts my dreams, whenever I turn out the light,
what an intoxicating effect the sight of you makes.
Was I just a game?
Was this all just for fun?
Don't tell me what we had, was a joke for your sake.
Was I simply a toy - your next heartbreak?
Just something to look back and laugh at as another mistake.
Did my feelings matter, my feelings that I shared with you.
'Those days meant something, and I feel no regrets',
The words you spoke - keep coming back to my head.
That's what you said - and in my heart I know,
that I had misread us -
it was all a show.
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Comments about this poem (Doubts by Brandon Shutter )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Christmas Trees, Robert Frost
- Jiske Dhun Par Duniya Nache, Kumar Vishwas
- Ring Out , Wild Bells, Alfred Lord Tennyson
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- O Captain! My Captain!, Walt Whitman
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