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He Never Came to Me
by Avery  Robertson

I write of love for him 
who never wrote for me;
the days are long
and draped in misery

So grey and dark,
too silent and dreary;
the shadows linger...
no answers to my query.

Where is the place you seek,
is it so far away
from this place in which I stand;
that you depart and stay,

Somewhere I cannot follow,
a place of your own demise?
where you think you hear
another heart, fall and rise

Within a soul unlike my own,
with eyes so soft and bright,
so full of hope,
so full of light,

That you'd be drawn
away from me;
becoming one...
no more "we"?

I turn my back and
walk away,
Wipe my tears...
and say,
"There will always be other days!"
        
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Poem ID: 12815   Poem Posted: 3/28/1999
Viewed: 19632  Voted On: 326  E-mailed: 109  Commented On: 4
 
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Copyright , 1999,  all rights reserved by the author.
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