Although

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I wrote this for a woman with whom I was madly, passionately, and soulfully in love with. I still love her to this day....

Although

 

Although

Although I’ll always love the stomach churning newness.

Although I’ll always love the sunlight golden tresses.

Although I’ll always love the blue eyes of ocean’s sadness.
 

Although I’ll always love the times we spent together.
 

Although I’ll always love the newness golden feeling.
 

Although I’ll always love the floating smiling brilliance.
 

Although I’ll always love the breath-stopping perfect vision.
 

Although I’ll always love the stories of adventure.
 

Although beauty never brought the love that should have been.
 

And although I’ll always love our heart-stopping time together.
 

I shall always realize -  as  mine she’ll never happen.
 

And although these things I realize.
 

I wish she was mine to be.
 

But always shall I remember,
 

It might have been to be.

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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TonyZeski’s Poems (3)

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