Sometimes I feel like writing; I don't claim that what I write is good,
but I like reading what I have written.
may-13
i slept but to forget you
and while i dreamt i met you
you were a flower
and i a worm
i loved you so i left you
i knew that i would drink the rain
and though to leave you caused me pain
for you to grow and i to learn
i moved myself away
and though i wish to speak to you
and you to speak to me
i know you know
it's best this way
for God's sake, I forget we
the holy hand of God, it's true
will not (I hope) remember you
to see the one I loved again
but then to know her as a friend
the pain will burn anew
I loved only you