Your face stares with
such a life that I wish
I could really see you blink.
Maybe you will see me
for the first time.

To see the blood rush to
your face as you blush
a crimson hue that only
a red tulip can barely
imitate.

Your eyes shows me your soul
yet I know some where you
are happier then I am.
Yet all the things I can
offer you will never measure
to you.

So I'll pine over your heart
shaped face like a poet or dreamer.
Maybe you don't really exist,
and maybe your just an image
spread across the web of life.

Yet I still can only hope
that something in me would
attract someone like you.
Yet my candle barely dances
in the sea of wicks that burn
so bright.

So let me say this if you will
let me for a moment bask in
some sort of hope as I gulp
down the last broken hope in
my misery.

10/08/2004

Posted on 10/09/2004
Copyright © 2025 Christopher Shin