Sometimes

Sometimes the days could be sunny,
yet life still seems so cold.
The self yearns for another
to love and to hold

Sometimes the days could be frigid,
and still, life is full of warmth.
The self has found another
to embrace in its arms

Sometimes the days could be rainy,
alas life is still dry and dead.
The self, held captive by loneliness;
love, from it, has fled

Sometimes the nights could be scary,
yet life is filled with dreams.
The self has been loved,
and loved so much, it seems.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s