Surrounded by friends, yet feeling alone,
In a crowd, but my heart's not known.
Each face familiar, every laugh shared,
But in this sea of faces, my soul bared.
One friend stands out, their interest sincere,
To know me deeply, to draw near.
But doubts linger, whispers of doubt,
Am I not enough? Do I leave them without?
My kind of love, it's in the knowing,
To unravel secrets, where hearts are glowing.
Yet here I am, feeling unseen,
Invisible threads, a silent scream.
Is it my fault, not interesting enough?
Or does their gaze falter, finding it tough?
The ache persists, in the depths it stirs,
For a love that's real, where understanding occurs.
In the midst of many, one friend's quest,
To know my soul, to put doubts to rest.
For my kind of love, it's in the knowing,
To be truly seen, where hearts keep growing.
YOU ARE READING
Those Things You Call A Poem
PoetryJust a collection of my in and out creativity. This is my rant area so warning, it's cringe, and emo, and just a mess.
