The Lies we tell one another in love
In a state of passion
Are sometimes
Are often
More real than what is true
For the reveal to us
And are
What we really are
What we really desire
What we really need
instead of our
Artful façade born out of defense.
She was always easy, easy to fall for and dream upon
Something about her was so gentle, something so far out of reach
Something, a certain something about her that glided me into love again
Something about her, that made be not hide away,
with her it was so easy
The natural way she played
The many things she said,
Sometimes I still think about her
How she drifted away
The illusions are more real,
Than the fixed patterns of our days
Sometimes we get a glimpse of what will come.
Of what should have always been
We run away from what is our true nature
Hide in our safety of others expectations again
To find my self, I no longer craw,
After her now I run.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem