I can see that you love her,
I'm not blind, but I'm trying to be,
As it hurts my grey eyes to see,
All the love that you give her but me.
It wouldn't 've mattered if she'd have loved you back,
The way you love her,
But you can see that she's failing,
To give you all the love that you deserve.
I can see she's a good girl,
I'm not blind but I'm trying to be,
I'll ignore my feelings for the rest of my life,
If that means you'll be happy.
But you're not happy,
You're just as broken as I am,
Only thing is you want it be like that,
Even though you know I can help fix it.
I can see you want an utopian ever-after,
I'm not blind but I'm trying to be,
But is it possible to live in a utopia,
With a heart as fragile as the thin glass piece?
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YOU ARE READING
In Between Those Two Pages
Poetry"A little too less, tasteless, A little too much, unbearable." Such is salt, and so is life. To the rose I preserved in between those two pages for so long that the pages no longer smell of them. Highest ranking: #44 in poetry as of 08.12.16
