You were always so perfect to me,
so soft and gentle,
cherishing you instantly,
without a second glance,
I never distrusted those eyes,
that lied to me continuously,
I promised you I'd always try,
but slowly you were losing me.
I would always have given you anything,
just to keep your interest,
stopping my heart from remembering,
all the pain you caused,
I never pulled away from that kiss,
that held a painful hint of truth,
Maybe you'd be too hard to miss,
so I said I was still in love with you.
I wanted more than just the
infatuation,
that you found in me.
You said love was only a distraction,
that you really didn't need,
so I cried myself to sleep,
knowing the times we shared must end.
You couldn't let emotion run deep,
you said you made love to me, as a
friend.
But eventually, my love,
friendships fade, too,
and I can't make love and walk away,
pretending I don't love you.
Never once did I push you away,
but everything comes to end,
so all that's left to say,
is goodbye,
I loved loving you, my friend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fine poem. Well said and all too true. I find it interesting the way many people can compartmentalize every aspect of their lives, and I want to ask 'Why bother if there isn't any passion? ' So many relationships are mismatched. One is madly in love with another who is really in love with someone else. Wouldn't it be nice if for once both of the lovers loved madly, insanely, mercurially?