Written by
Hilaire Belloc |
Still a mystery,
I can’t figure out;
Race home from work,
Where life is without.
*****
I race to see you,
And hold you to me;
My mind says you’re there,
And my heart won’t see.
*****
I open the door,
It’s still a surprise:
You’re not there,
And tears fill my eyes.
*****
I need someone,
Or call on the phone;
But nothing breaks the silence,
Of these walls made of stone.
*****
I punish myself,
By refusing to eat:
Depression is silent,
I hear my heart beat.
*****
Where can I go,
Or should I stay:
Shy to choose,
In bed I lay.
*****
Time will pass,
And the dark sets in;
Laying there wishing,
I could still touch your skin.
*****
Lying there hurting,
I wish I could die;
Missing you so much,
Again I start to cry.
*****
Sometimes I wonder,
If you even know;
The way that I need you,
Would you still go.
*****
I can’t sleep now,
Again a long night;
Are you this lonely,
Do you share in my fright.
*****
Written 09-27-90
|
Written by
Edna St Vincent Millay |
And what are you that, wanting you,
I should be kept awake
As many nights as there are days
With weeping for your sake?
And what are you that, missing you,
As many days as crawl
I should be listening to the wind
And looking at the wall?
I know a man that's a braver man
And twenty men as kind,
And what are you, that you should be
The one man in my mind?
Yet women's ways are witless ways,
As any sage will tell,—
And what am I, that I should love
So wisely and so well?
|
Written by
Edna St Vincent Millay |
And what are you that, wanting you,
I should be kept awake
As many nights as there are days
With weeping for your sake?
And what are you that, missing you,
As many days as crawl
I should be listening to the wind
And looking at the wall?
I know a man that's a braver man
And twenty men as kind,
And what are you, that you should be
The one man in my mind?
Yet women's ways are witless ways,
As any sage will tell, --
And what am I, that I should love
So wisely and so well?
|