October 20, 2005.
Glass Rose

They say love’s not real,
It’s something that you feel.
It’s chocolate brown eyes
Against deep blue skies.
It’s everything you do
And everything in you.
It’s what you give to me
In the pure gold harmony.
It’s what you find inside,
And not to be put aside.
For all truths that are untold,
Hopes that time won’t make old.
It’s a soft glass rose,
Poetry in prose.
It’s pain, tears,
Unspoken years.
Things you can’t forget,
Promises in debt.
Reality that’s not there,
Thinking no one could care.
Healing over time,
And with it hearts that do align.