Love, Hear My Gentle Cry Poem by Boston Kelley

Oh, Love, hear this gentle cry.
Listen to the voice of one has been
untouched by your pleasant hand.

Your favor is not upon me,
I have not received your blessings.
Your hand passes over me as if
I were not worthy of you.
I kneel in reverence to you asking
much to be granted,
yet I receive nothing.
Why must I not be favored as others
are showered with your gifts?

You have instilled a passion within my heart,
but it is all for naught.
Heartfelt compassion and love I feel,
but who will I pour it upon?
Your arrow has struck me and I am
consumed by your fiery nature,
yet that fire has no one to merge with.
Why must you torment me in this?
How have those other servants received
your favor?

This gentle plea I make although I know
you will likely not hear it.
The words escape my lips but will fade
away near your ear.
My heart is consumed with the romance
that is meant to be shared,
and burden me as it does.

Look upon the attraction between two human
beings and understand the love
between them.
Can you not see how sweet and pleasing
such emotions are?
In your hands, you have the power to bring a
man and woman together.
You incite aphrodisia between them, strengthening
their passions.
Why does such togetherness evade me?
I hunt it down and time and time again it
manages to hide.

Should I die without knowing such love
what life will I have lived?
Lest I pass away, how can I say I was
fulfilled?

Oh, Love, hear this gentle plea.
Bless this begging heart for it bears
such a heavy burden.