Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Is it too much to wish that I were cherished?
I thought that once I was, that I was cared for,
but now I find those false beliefs have perished,
and so I wonder what my heart was spared for.
A wish that I were loved is not too much,
I think, but maybe somehow it's made more
by wanting love from someone sweet, whose touch
I crave, whose smile and gaze I'm living for.
The lonely nights pass by, heed not my dreams.
No mind is paid my slumber's phantom love.
He, faceless, disappears with dawn's first gleams,
and I'm left reaching for what I dreamed of.
I thought, once, I was loved: it was not true.
So why do I now long for love anew?