Promises pile like a pack of cards,
failing to fulfil their purpose.
Counting...The goods are falling short of the bads,
and i should be content & hopeful i suppose.
There you are holding all the cards,
keeping me standing on my toes.
Well I can only dream of you tonight,
and hope that in the end you play them right.
I like this poem. Touching, and familiar to things I know and have felt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I know the feeling....