I met a man with piercing eyes,
whose cool facade was mere disguise;
whose soul reflected sadness there,
the like of which I can't compare;
whose massive frame seemed somehow small
for one whose stature stood so tall;
whose gentle face and boyish grin
revealed the tenderness therein.

whose glance I felt afraid to meet
for fear of dejavous entreat...
like past old strangers reunited,
or some lost love not yet requited.

he was running, so was I;
we almost passed each other by,
but something gave us moment's pause
in destiny's ill-fated cause.

we stopped and shared a word or two,
like old acquaintenances might do;
we passed the time as best we could
both somehow knowing that we should.

and gradually he made me smile,
and then his came, in a little whil,e
but underneath i saw the pain and fear
he felt to love again.


and compassion overtook me then
for all those empty hours we spend
in seeking warmth from someone else,
instead of looking to ourselves

for all those nameless faces yet
and all those ghosts we can't forget;
for all the loves that haunt us still
and rob us of our own free will;
for all the memories that lie
so heavily on heart's goodbye;
for all the loving we may miss
because of nurtured cowardice.

for all the chances we let pass,
when stepping through that looking glass
to let the words we longed to say
fall lost along our appointed way.

because we fear, in foolish pride,
to let another step inside
to take a place so deep within
that no one else has ever been.

for fear of feeling human need
and acquiesence of brotherly deed;
for giving is that part of love we find
that we're most fearful of.

and all those things i thought within
that familiar reunion with past old friend,
when glimpsing there beneath those eyes
midst idle talk and flirting sighs.


but he knew well, as i did too,
the candle's flame to which we drew,
like moths who flutter to be free
but can't escape fate's destiny.

and so it was, we passed the night,
but never touched as once we might,
for we both feared what we both knew
as past old strangers often do...
the haunting warmth that we might find,
the kindredship of mirrored minds,
the comfort we would share as friends,
the fear of where it all might end...




 
Copyright © jsmagic, All Rights Reserved