fuzzy tender affections drown and drifted,
his stature, and chiseled old oak brawn,
worn with that boyish grin he lifted
to give his politest rejection,this time;I'm torn.
when the sun had set and the dew was gone,
i sighed for thee like a unloved guest.
until the realization on me did dawn,
that 'tis not in me that thee would rest.
he knows well who does love him darling.
i wish the cold cold earth would shake him,
through the rafter's shadow i hear a calling,
but its decreed that i shall never find him.
No comments:
Post a Comment