A Poet I Am Not…

Those of you who know me fairly well know that I am by no means a poet. That’s the one area of writing where I feel my attempts are utterly juvenile. I freely admit it. Today, however, as I was performing a great purge of papers and writing that I felt just weren’t worth saving any longer, I came across the little gem below. I would consider this piece my best and most valiant attempt at poetry. I hope you enjoy it…

The hardest part of you leaving
is that you’ll never know.
You won’t know how I lived
for the days I’d spend with you.
The days you’d leave me breathless
with only a smile, speechless with a touch.

I’d watch you move,
and listen to you talk,
at times not hearing,
just watching your lips move.
Imagining and wondering,
what it would be like to feel
those lips touching mine.

In my mind I’d see you and me,
the actors in the scenes that I
created, each with a happy ending.
This isn’t the movies though,
and this isn’t my fantasy either.
Reality is happening to me now,
and there is no happy ending.

You’ll never know that I cried
as I watched you walk away,
fading into the crowd until
you completely disappeared.
It took me a moment
to gather myself and dry my tears.
But I did, telling myself that
it was better this way.

Maybe by the time you return,
if you return,
I might actually believe it.


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