how quickly lives can touch,
it does not take much time,
Just a bit of love, not much,
that molds a heart to mine;
there is a quaint sadness,
when time’s not on your side,
mixed with a strange gladness,
hope left behind to bide;
the road goes on, as does time,
hope moves on, the heart aches,
love promises the sublime,
but seldom gives what it takes…
Those books, those films, those stories and those songs
Convinced us how love in life belongs.
They made us sops look for it all over:
Hope to look for it in four leaf clovers.
They never mentioned what to do after –
When the tears slyly kill the laughter,
When the stars and moon blot out and die,
When we glean every one was a lie.
They never talk of love’s staying in lease,
Or of death, or of pain, or of disease;
They never mentioned how love loses faith,
How it doesn’t need another love to mate.
Maybe, I am to blame for I looked away,
From the books, films, songs that had this to say.
I realize now what love’s true nature is:
Unjust quotients of sadness and bliss,
A ruse to reproduce before you get forlorn,
With nothing to do once the kids are gone.
Of this I’m sure: after all the cheating,
Although love leaves, the heart keeps on beating.
I remember when I was bullied –
I remember when I am sad –
I know they are best left alone –
Those times when I was treated bad –
But I remember them now and think –
Of how things would have, could have been –
If I had the friends I have now –
What different hopes I might have seen –
How things would, could, may have been –
If I had these friends by my side –
I would not have felt so alone –
My feelings wouldn’t have had to hide –
But – but these friends are around now –
And I have a safer harbour –
To guide this derelict into –
When sadness makes me remember.
Hearts Still Care 