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So close, yet so far
you are to me.

We walk, my hand in yours.
But your hand is not on mine.

So I kiss you.
Your soft lips I peck.
They're open, so calling.
Yet, so closed for me.

I said that I loved you.
That my love would be true.
You smiled and kissed my lips.
Never I learnt, did you love me then?

I was in love with you.
Did you love me
or was I only a fool.
©2000-2009 ~vaeltaja
:iconvaeltaja:

Author's Comments

Love is a word that is used too often. It is a feeling. You know when you're in love when you feel it. But as always, you cannot say that is the other person in love with you even is she says so.

Comments


love 0 0 joy 0 0 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconasleep:
Wow... that is almost the same poem I wrote a hundred times... You've captured the feeling of love without return very well..

David Demski
www.DreamersGuild.com
:iconjsenn:
Besides the death of one very dear, the still, gentle ache of one's heart over unrequited love, is the most sorrowful emotion.
:iconseas:
an emotion sealed in words...i wish i was as good.

:iconitirep:
sooo nice...unrequited love is the food of all starving poets..great work here

:icontack:
Nice. I like that you worked in peck. :) (Smile) This is good work. Some of the only good to come out of times like those is the writing.

:iconham:

Fool U very so young in love... reaching out for the better side of YOU... PURE... and nice:) (Smile)
:iconham:

Fool U very so young in love... reaching out for the better side of YOU... PURE... and nice:) (Smile)
:iconphc:
Vital as it is, it still lacks of something I can't set my finger on. The poem itself is beautiful

- the1

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November 13, 2000
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