To all the ones I have tried to make friends
But later discovered you didn't have a good heart in the end.
This is what I remembered you said:
...
Yes, it's true.
I don't know everything.
However, I do know some things.
I believe no one on this earth knows everything.
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He stands in the wake of making what's wrong right.
He is a man of essence, unconventional wisdom-strong family convictions.
Those around him strive to do better.
He is our inspiration.
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His boldness, his unbridled expressions-he exudes with confidence.
I am inspired but yet, lost-lost in all his splendors.
Will he hold me captive forever?
Time knows, I say.
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He smiles but with many faces.
His persona is hidden in different places.
A work of art is he.
He seeks and attaches, conquers, and makes you believe.
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If you think, I could be with you and see another,
Don't worry-no other.
If you think, I can share your joy and your pain
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It is the end of November and my sorrow is great.
This poem is for a great lady I remember
But I have not honored yet.
Let these words give you comfort in time of need.
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I can't imagine with all my charms,
You would seek love in another woman's arms.
I figure you won't tell
But all is not well.
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Your words, can they sound any sweeter?
With your promises mixed with deception,
It leaves the mind in an upheaval.
I am not satisfied as a believer.
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Turn to me my love and you will see.
The flames of passion that burned then dimmed but now have gone out.
I can summon many words but right now I am in doubt.
...