With Me
It is, perhaps, too much
to ask someone to
hold onto my dreams
for me,
to hold my hand if I'm
afraid, or
love me any time I
need.
I wish, perhaps, too much
and wait for someone to
say just the right words
to me,
that make me always feel OK
with who and how I
am, and
mean when they say they
love me always,
forever.
When I am tired,
when I feel too
feeble with frustrations,
who sits with me and
shows they care?
I am OK.
I am that one, always,
for me.
(2/7/2008)
No comments:
Post a Comment