What does one do,
When their feelings are real,
But the one they are towards,
Doesn’t know how you feel?
The answer seems easy,
But there’s too much at stake,
I’ve been wondering if,
It’s a risk I should take.
Given time, questions will unfold
And show the answers held within them.
(I wrote this poem few years ago)
By now she imagines
that her envy must have a flavor
Bitter orange and arsenic,
or apple peels and dust
It’s hard to be content
when she sees better all around
Unattainable, out of reach,
like sweet ripe fruit just above her head
she can’t change anything real, so
she will change her hair, change her dress, change her ideas
And hope nobody notices the plain old her
still hiding underneath
she feels like a brown-grey caterpillar
so how come, after so many years
a butterfly yet?
Can you please lift the curse?
She asked while looking at his pictures
She isn’t able to escape,
The songs she listen to, the movies she watches, and the books she reads
All appear to conspire against her
To remind her of his face in one way or another
She can even hear the memories talking through the wall
Sadness weighs her down like anchor weighs a ship down to the sand
On a shelf she sits,
On the wall,
Beautiful and defined,
The china doll.
They pass her by,
Smile and look.
An unread book.
She just wants,
To be hugged and loved.
In the corner she’s snubbed.
Afraid she’ll get broken,
so they leave her alone.
The pain in her heart,
Leaves her cold as stone.