So it was her all along, now I see,
How you got close to her family tree.
How you befriended her friends so fast,
It was her, it was her, from first to last.
I thought I had a chance to shine,
But your heart was never mine.
The chance I missed, I couldn't see,
The chance I thought was meant for me.
You spoke to me when you had a need,
Not for love, but selfish greed.
It’s funny now, to shift the blame,
When all along, I played this game.
I told myself, "They're just that way,
They're friendly, that's all they say."
But no, you love her—it’s plain to see,
You’re whole with her, but not with me.
You're at peace when she is near,
While I am left with doubt and fear.
It's always been her, I should have known,
And now I stand here, all alone.
YOU ARE READING
Tears Of Love
PoetryThis poem explores the bittersweet experience of admiring someone who doesn't quite fit the image of the "perfect" partner you once envisioned. It delves into the tension between fantasy and reality, reflecting on the beauty of imperfections, the un...
