I want to write a poem for you today
But if I did so it would just fall
onto deaf ears and sightless eyes
Your eyes, they see sight
but not for me
You're right in front of my face
but staring down at your computer
thinking about another man
It's what I get for trying to win your love
with a cup of apple chaider and some nice words
I feel like cursing right here, right now
but I can't
Not in front of your face
Not in front of those eyes and ears...
which do not acknowledge my existence anyway
So if I get the courage (or cowardice)
I'll ask you how your lover is
and hold my true feelings inside
I'll let them mangle up my insides
and puke out into screenplay format
Cuz if there's anything worse than writing a poem for you
it's writing a script about me
and my anguish towards irony of our situation
I've been a loner for 21 years
I'll be a loner for more
God, you give me hope in small fragments, followed by bouts of sadness. Why? Why do you string me along such a path?
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