The Love that I feel
Cannot always be contained,
No matter how hard I try.
It always sifts below the surface,
Waiting for It's chance to rise
Waiting for It's chance to cruelly remind.
Oh, how I wish I could snuff It out!
To be rid of It once and for all,
To wipe my soul clean
And erase It’s poor Blemish,
And the unsightly Tarnish It leaves!
I long to disentangle
My Life's thread from yours.
To silence your ghostly voice,
And pull away from your phantom grasp.
In my moments of weakness
I doubt I ever could.
Then Sense kicks in
And knows that given the right chance,
I would.
