Sometimes I wonder if
I ever actually felt her warmth,
sensed her, breathed her in.
I look back and question
any place in my life where
I stood in her presence,
held her, or she held me.
I wonder if she was
nothing more than a dream I had,
when I still had dreams,
an ideal that kept me on
a path to be the nice polite boy
and good strong man, since
that was the way they said
one took to win her favor.
But I never did experience
her love and,
like most sore losers,
I have doubts now she
even exists. Perhaps, in this,
my last dream, if I stopped
searching so hard, one day
Peace will find me.
Sometimes I wonder if I ever actually felt her warmth, sensed her, breathed her in. I look back and question any place in my life where I stood in her presence, held her, or she held me. I wonder if she was nothing more than a dream I had, when I still had dreams, an ideal that kept me on a path to be the nice polite boy and good strong man, since that was the way they said one took to win her favor. But I never did experience her love and, like most sore losers, I have doubts now she even exists. Perhaps, in this, my last dream, if I stopped searching so hard, one day Peace will find me.
The BeZine 