Suppressed longing; A dream,
naught more.
Pebble-dashed hopes, my love
remains, always.
Him.
Her.
What does it matter?
If love is natural, why do you care
who I choose. I cannot bring my self
to say it to your face.
A chorus of saintly echoes; when,
I see you
But never, not ever,
will I tell you.
It cannot be. Or,
can it?
A lament of hate
Undue hate, for
oneself
Why?
You are who you are.
Beautiful, to me. A
boy cries tonight
He knows not his heart.
It conflicts,
with his head. A war,
of "right" against "wrong".
But, alas. None is right,
as none is wrong.
Let nothing bring you
away from that.









