Poem by Marc Aupiais
I wonder as I write,
Is it worth knowing you,
So bossy in my life,
But callous in what you speak of:
Hurting me-
Daily
You really do hurt me, my lady!
And I'm always caught between:
Believing them about you,
And believing you and God!
I certainly don't yet trust you,
I'm not sure if I'm ready for you!
Yes, I'm sure you seem to think
You obey your conscience:
Yet, it keeps causing hurt to me,
The things you say and do!
Dearest Lady, I love you,
Woman in my dreams, lady girl!
Yet you so often hurt me,
And hold me to a standard-
Far, much higher than to you,
And I don't know how you hurt me,
I'm physically harmed by you!
Dear baby I love you,
I really though wonder,
And weep due to your ways of speaking,
And Acting
As though I didn't at all matter to you!
And yet, the night breeze, I sensed, it became a hurricane in the morning, my dream, in it as though truth itself, is to know that night breeze, as though in romance- to romance the mystery of the hidden truth. For I love the night breeze, which so few yet can sense.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The more I know you the more I cry
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