The fruit has ripened.
But it hangs high on the tree.
It will ripen further and die,
Slowly.
The sun will hit it hard.
The moon will not help at all.
The best thing for it to do is
Fall.
Birds may help it perhaps,
Maybe a strong breeze,
A god may help, if it says
Please.
Knowing providence though,
It’s more likely to hang and rot,
It’s one of those things that love just
Forgot.
It does look tasty and juicy,
But it’s so very, very high,
I might as well give up before I
Try.
The wonder doesn’t last,
The smiles fade away,
The hope from the past
Burns up today.
You held him too close,
There is no chance now,
To vainly suppose
He will keep his vow.
The shades burst too soon,
The night comes to wail,
Darkness takes the moon,
Silence takes the tale.
If I was young
You would see me;
Would I give up hope
For temporary vanity?
If I was beautiful
You would see me;
How insubstantial
Would I have to be?
If I was rich
You would see me;
Does bought amity
Come with a guarantee?
If I was ambitious
You would see me;
Would that secure
Inviolability?
If I just love
You can’t see me,
Should I forget you
To assure my sanity?
Hearts Still Care 