He's supposed to touch and make you feel
The love he promised he would give.
Between the real and the ideal
Is where you've found a place to live
So close to the periphery
Still waiting on delivery.
You both said things you meant to do,
At least, that's what you thought it meant:
But maybe time's been running through
And symbols only represent.
But yet, he's there: he breathes and lives,
And takes, but rarely ever
Gives
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Tagged: Tags Life Poetry Relationships
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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