Reality

So long ago the world was an oyster To my hand. Obtaining my lifelong dreams were the infinite plan. At times it feels like I stand on quicksand However the sad truth is this is called reality. Staring people in cold distant eyes Few are warm and inviting Still I hold on waiting on my true angel, true love to arrive. What I do I can not complain At times my own ways, drive me insane So how can I expect another to maintain A level of faithfulness When the thought has been always to not make him my main. The million dollar question is Why do I repeat the same repetitive actions Receiving the same results Disappointed when true love does not appear Disillusioned that trust can actually reappear Self is who has to earn my own trust Before I can give to another Really before i should make him my lover Until then I sit there waiting in my own reality.