Poetry
When I think back, about the love I gave, none have loved me with a sincere heart. I asked myself what’s wrong with me that they loved me not. I laid the truth before them and never kept any secrets, faithful to the soul, kind to the heart. Maybe if I had cheated and lied, they would have believed my every word. I gave more than I took, gave without motive or reason, gave sincerely. Maybe, if I taken more and gave nothing, they would have given me the world. I showed them love of a life-time, love of a pure heart and true soul. I should have given shallow love and maybe they would have loved the ground.
I spent countless moments proving that I should have been what they wanted and this they would respect. I answered every call, every text; I was there for every visit and came every time I was called. Maybe, if I had not answered every call and ignored every knock; maybe they would have tried harder to reach me; maybe they would have missed me more. The reasons were all the same: they were unappreciative, unfair and love was just a game: It’s simple; they loved me not because they didn’t want too I just wasn’t the one for them and I can live with that.
The reasons were all the same: they were unappreciative, unfair and love was just a game: It’s simple; they loved me not because they didn’t want too. I just wasn’t the one for them and I can live with that.