10/12/17
I found true love in a borrowed book,
while I prayed, in the hand I took
was a gentle press of friendship made
supported by all the notes you gave-
yet all this I blatantly forsook.
When you passed me by I would not look,
but now that you're gone my soul is shook.
In these passing hours that are grave
I found true love.
Who knew these feelings that would cook
as I stand alone beside a brook
full of the memories I betrayed-
The warmth of your arms I wish I could save.
Why is it that in becoming a crook
I found true love.
"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." -Ecclesiastes 3:1
YOU ARE READING
Honesty
PoetryPoetry about real life. This book is now complete, new book to be started soon.
