I couldn’t say I need you
When you smiled and said you had a reason
To not wake me with a kiss.
Kisses are to be timed.
Like doctor’s appointments
Or the schedules of trains.
I couldn’t say I need you
Because your smile was meant for me
To forget that I do.
It was a smile that was perfect
And timed so that I would not notice
That some appointments and trains
Are always late.
The Anger suddenly builds!
There’s no way to let it out.
Who would I let it out on:
On Him, on Fact, on Me, on Doubt?
I have spent the Sadness
All that I had to give,
Now I burst with Anger
That doesn’t want to forgive.
The Moon laughs at me,
She who I know so well;
How this story will end,
Even she can foretell.
I turn away from her, too,
She who has been a friend;
She is no longer someone
On whom I can depend.
Like most of the hearts
To whom I gave my love,
She lies far away,
In an unreachable above.
I have nothing to offer,
I have nothing more to say,
When heartbreak comes calling,
I’ll let him have his way.
I had such hopes,
Such hopes had I,
I had tried so hard,
How hard I still try;
But it all comes to nought,
I have no more of me to give,
So all I can do is love,
All I get to do is live.
I am angry for a reason;
But reasons are no excuse;
No one wishes to learn;
Everyone has their own views.
I ramble on and I rant and rave,
I have tried it all, you see;
I am angry now, but in a while,
I’ll bear each end willingly.
Good things do not last long, it’s the truth;
They fade out, they vanish, they end;
I keep thinking they will last, last through time;
I cling on to hope, I grasp, I even pretend.
The good is relative, the wise ones say;
The good comes and goes only to come again.
The wise ones nod their wise heads and ask:
What is it that I really hope to retain?
I do not like the wise, they instil doubt;
They make the good not seem so good;
And I wonder if I hope, for what was that?
And if I hope again, if I really should?
I think and I think and wisdom surfaces;
I can almost feel the wise ones smile;
I see myself a little clearer, the same truth,
That I disregarded for a little while.
It is a sign of a deep seeded analysis,
Of some jargon from freudian slips,
Of hurt that male figures left behind,
On my doubtful soul, on my hungry lips.
I see this truth again, and feel the scorn
Of all those who claim to be so very wise;
I see myself as I forever have,
Through the ones I want, their very eyes.
I wish I knew how to make peace
With this clueless boy within me.
How do I make him understand
All that is but what he cannot see?
The perspective of self, mirror and eyes,
Will always wary, so maybe stick to one?
The wise ones will always say, perhaps,
There is no choice, when there is but one sun.
So as wisdom prevails I must tell him
Look to self, let mirror and eyes shatter;
Men will come and go, come and go,
It’s only you that will, in the end, matter.
Hearts Still Care 
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