He always looked at me....
This unkeepable lover of mine, yes he looked at me and
always in awe.
But I, powerless to surrender, knew not what he saw.
I always looked away.....
Broken in his view
I could not allow
But he remained
Looking at something...somehow
If I could only....
...only have loved
If I could only have loved him would he have not left
If I could only have been something more to see
...would I still be guilty of my theft
Someone tell me...what did he see
I know not...that it was me...
There are treasures galore in this world to view
Not me, of course, but look in the mirror...
it may be you...
Would there be less poems in the world of beauty hidden
if someone had not seen?
...still...why did he plant a love and then flee before he
could nurture it
I suppose he could not see all that well......
after all.....what he sees now is only wilted and
Perhaps that is the reason why he looks the other way now