I was sitting and thinking of things to say,
That would tell you in some small way,
How much you mean to me through each passing day,
With feelings that do not decay.
If I could tell you what was really on my mind,
I’d leave you lost and wandering in kind.
My wild heart knows no bind;
Set forward in passion eager to find.
Seeking and searching high and low;
Inside and outside as I stub my toe.
The death of my soul carried by a crow;
Here I sat always to cry “woe”.
In frigid isolation I found myself to be,
Locked in pain so great I could not see.
My life became an obscenity;
As, all too willingly, I held onto misery.
Now here I sit thinking of you.
Gazing out at dawn’s morning hue;
Watching leaves fly as the winds blew;
All within seems raw and new.
I tried to kill my heart;
Though it would not depart.
With a simple touch you gave it a start.
Love truly is an art.