the pain is great
it formed so long ago
that I cannot recall a time without it
a time of happiness, joy
perhaps even bliss,
but, at any rate,
free from the constant tug
of sadness's grip on my heart,
the silent tears I shed
always behind closed doors,
never in the open
there they would be recognized
and my pretense of strength
would be dissolved,
taken from me before I could respond
the constant dull ache of my heart
causes me unceasing grief
only you can save me now
but you're too busy to notice
you don't even call anymore
I loved you
and I thought you loved me too...
 
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