A Future Love's Past
In some future I will voice all that is true,
how I swear your eyes glow, and whisper to me.
But the nonchalance I show, back turned from view,
keeps me a shell, a lock rusted without key.
We waste time – why ? - not speaking a syllable;
frozen by love, hands reach out yet unable.
In the past, all this I have already told:
my brave heart rewarded for being so bold.
Copyright © Thomas Harrison | Year Posted 2024
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