The Morning No Longer Calls My Name
That feeling of wanting to be loved has returned again and I thought my heart had gone beyond the pale this time. That I had willed an end to all that sweet corruption of my soul that gave my life such vulnerability. But here I am wishing, hoping, dreaming that I could be worthy of someone's attention once again . Each night gets longer and I find that the morning no longer calls my name;but leaves me to awaken my almost jaded heart with inspirations of my own. A difficult task for one to do but child's play for two, and there it is, a playmate devoutly to be wished! Perchance to dream it might be you.
Copyright © Michael Ainsley | Year Posted 2016
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