He has an appetite
sweet to satisfy.
But he's so distant and curt,
with painful goodbyes.
As the crescendo builds,
it's blurry as a...A fantasy.
But when the mist clears,
I realize again, he doesn't love me.
Try, try, try, till you find him! i like how you've written this one!
For me I realize a poem is good if my wife could read it then use it against me really nice write here
Very thoughtful write... keep searching for the one that does both. Lee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This one I can send to my wife! Another 10.