I can never have

What I want from you

I don't know how to ask

You don't know how to give.

Because of these words I cannot say

You will never understand

How much I grave to hear you say

I'm proud of you.

Nothing that I do

Will ever gain response from you

I try so hard for yet so little

You have no interest in what I do.

I want so much for genuine praise

To hear it from you

Hope is a tease, playing a cruel game

Forever with me and just out of reach.

What few talents that I have

Hold no value with either of you

Though I know it's true that you despise

Of my passion for the written word.

The spoken word I cannot master

For it comes so hard to someone like me

A lonely, quiet, shy young woman

Overshadowed by those of the prominent gift.

To speak up and be heard

To talk in a way that pleases you

Their tongues flow so easily

The wit is sharp and the replies are clear.

While I mumble, searching in vain

For the words to say

Too long I take, how rude you think

To fail to answer straight away.

It hurts me so, that I cannot say

These words to your face

So I fall back as I have always done

To pencil and paper.

Then the words come freely

Flowing from my mind to my hand

Reread, rewrite, the words improve

I'll get it right, just give me time.

The words I write, you will not read

No time, no interest, no point

I no longer offer my work

For you greet it only with impatience.

What else can I do?

It is all I have

Though the dream is unlikely

I'm holding on, I can be patient.

I'm waiting for the day

When you, my parents,

Will be proud to say

This is our daughter.

See her work, the writing she does

The speed at which she writes

The imagination runs wild as the story takes shape

One day she may be published.

A dream achieved

And respect is gained

A longed for wish

Will it ever come true?

Stalemate at the moment

Neither fully understanding

The points of view of the other

To remand unchanged for a long while yet.

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