Apart

I guess there’s no way of knowing,

The way you feel about me,

And whether or not I made,

The right impression on your heart.

Perhaps I should just accept,

That all we’re meant to be – is apart.

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Unworldly

In the early stages of my Life’s construction,

I would unwittingly press the button,

Of Self-Destruction.

I did this when I could never find,

The Self-Confidence,

To bring me any peace of mind.

Since this confidence remains elusive,

And its lacking still an obstruction,

I can’t but help remain reclusive,

Until I bring about my Life’s reconstruction.

I could never have foretold,

That by merely feeling unworthy,

Such damage would unfold,

Such damage that’s proving- unworldly.

 

Changing Seasons

Winter’s arriving,

And a part of me is glad.

Though when one season comes,

The other must depart,

Which usually leaves me feeling sad.

This Summer’s progress though has been but few,

And I know Winter leaves little chance to start anew.

The Summer was filled with sunshine,

But without much rain,

Which made progress a pain,

And since something was lacking,

I hardly made a gain.

So I enter Winter still searching for missing pieces,

But should I hope for what I’m looking for,

In the season when almost everything decreases?

 

 

 

 

 

Yearning

I’m in need,

Of a little love,

A little attention.

I could really use,

Some comfort,

Some affection.

But I understand,

That few are attracted,

To those,

With many limitations.

When it comes to love,

The destitute rarely receive,

Any satisfaction.

Perhaps

Perhaps, if I were stone,

And not made of flesh and bone,

It wouldn’t hurt this much,

To be so lowly.

Perhaps, if I were withered grain,

Without blood flowing through my veins,

It wouldn’t hurt this much,

To feel so lonely.

Deja vu

Why do I feel like I’ve been here before?

Stepping onto the porch, in front of Hope’s door.

Hoping to be let in this time, unlike before.

Hoping to be let in this time; to finally explore.

Why do I feel like I’ve been here before?

Maybe, it’s because I have been here before.

Since many a time have I loitered around Hope’s door.

Never to be let in, never getting what I was looking for.

So why do I keep coming here, always hoping for more?