Patrick Dacosta Poet I do not know?

You Walked By

When I see you walking down the street,
I think of being with you.

When you smile as you pass me by,
It’s hard for me not to cry.

 In sleep my I dream of you by my side,
But in the morning arise with a heavy sigh,
For my dream was just a lie.

I know what this feeling is,
Yet I can’t wonder;
 will it ever be real?

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Barbara Cameron December 7, 2009 at 11:48 AM Hi Patrick, I think your beating yourself up for nothing, unrequited love is very painful! Get real! love the poem - reminds me of my youth, and the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me keep up the good work. B