To linger on you too much is a crime
Against my heart, which feels this separation
Too cruelly to permit another rhyme
To make it recollect its past elation.
The trouble that I put my poor heart to
By thinking of you every single minute
Is magnified by its lacking of you
For at the same time you are present in it
You are so far away it feels the strain
Between what ought to be and what is now,
And it expresses that in barbing pain
And it is that I ought not to allow:
I should not let your memory become
A pain to which in time I might grow numb.
No comments:
Post a Comment