I want you, you know
I just have to admit.
With my right hand held high,
I can’t deny it.
I laugh and I tease,
With a childish grin.
Then you look at me, tortured,
And I feel like I’ve sinned.
I hate it,
Acting so d*mn immature,
But there’s no acceptable way
To show how I feel anymore.
Every time that I hold you,
It feels like the last.
So I hold on a bit longer,
Using laughter as my mask.
Amazing, isn’t it?
All these games that I play.
Hoping you’ll see the meaning
Behind the charade.
But if you want it,
Here's the God-honest truth.
See…the fact is…
I still love you too.
(Written: 2-11-08. Posted: 2-16-08.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem