The sun is warm, the day is cold,
the pencil sharp and at the ready.
Enough time to create something beautiful.
No inspiration to try.

People walk past and smile,
this old man here looks nice.
But people mostly ignore me.
I'm not worth it.

My leg, it hurts, but no one cares,
my back feels like I'm ninety-two.
My anklet tangles with my laces,
this fly my only friend.

No one to talk to, to speak to, to know.
The shade behind me, creeping near.
The chill of night falls over my back,
doesn't care that it's still midday.

Shining bright above, distant star.
Bright and warm and welcoming.
I feel only the cold of the shadows, the chill on the wind.
I fear the only thing to warm me up may be you.

It pains me deeply, the distance between us.
The miles they cut and bleed.
I want you, I need you, I fear you, I love you,
no thing I know, will banish these thoughts.

Come closer to me, I beg you.
I can't see you, please I need you...
I will try my hardest to reach you...
as long as you promise to do the same.

The shadows creeping up my spine,
ease not my agony, bringing more.
I have to go, be somewhere else.
But I need this pain, for you.

For you I sit here, calm and quiet,
for you I pour out my heart and soul, silently.
I fear I may never tell you these things to your face,
but for you, I will always care.

I write my poems, a hopeless want,
desire for the untouchable.
I feel so human, I rarely do,
but for you, I'll be human, any day.

When I see you face to face, I pray,
please, touch me not.
To prolong the dream, the want, the ache...
and give it all away... for you...

Things left unsaid, stay unsaid...
until the heart lets them out, or let's them go.