Submitted by Bryon D. Howell
E-mail: ctpoet4muse@aol.com
The dusty moon upon my lonely face,
the star-filled night‘s elusive, dreamful cure;
my heart is melting from the thoughts of space,
I’m hopeful I am worthy to endure.
You say you don’t love me the way I love you, but I love you so much it hurts my little begging heart. My dreams are so realistic that it makes me believe there’s a possibility between us. What can I do to make you realize the love you seek is in me, and that you don’t have to search anymore.