Unread

These poems I write

for you, they are.

Can't you see what I'm

trying to say?

You're my light

in this world of darkness

Is it true?

You're really that blind?

Don't talk of him,

I won't think of her.

Just, please, listen.

Don't turn me away.

You say it's not true.

I can't love you,

but your glasses cloud your eyes,

as well as your mind.

In the cold of this world,

you're the heat I've found.

I'm thawed out

after having been frozen.

But all of this,

it matters not,

for here's one poem

ne'er reach your eyes.

I'll remain silent,

myself in despair;

and leave you wondering,

asking me "why?".