About the Poem
This poem was written for a man who swept me off my feet, appearing to be everything I ever dreamed of; at 16 years old, it's easy to fall in love. Suddenly, this love was ended with no explanation, and I was left picking up the pieces of my heart and my pride. When you're young, it's easy to let one aspect of your life control every move you make (at least it was for me). Love hurts... no matter which way you look at it. However, this poem was the beginning of my loooong healing process and hopefully, I'll be over my Tommy one day. I loved him with every fiber of my being, while he had luke warm feelings for me... Go figure! He treated me like dirt, but I never noticed it.
Hindsight is 20/20, though, and I know I'm better off now. This poem helped me to heal the wounds in my fragile little heart... I put a copy of it in his mailbox about 3 months after we broke up... that's why it was written, I never found out what he did because of it. But I love to dream about the look on his face, maybe even the hurt in his eyes...
A Few Visitor Comments
There are More comments below the poem ...
|by Lonely Dreamer|
The days have turned into weeks, now months,
And I'm not sure why I'm here; for once
I'm missing you... missing you still.
It's like I've lost every ounce of pride.
Where there was a heart, now I'm empty inside.
I'm wondering, "How should I feel?"
I'm curious if you still know I'm alive.
My world is so messed up, I will not survive.
I'm so lost without you; I'm oh so alone.
I see the light's on, but is anyone home?
Just the smell of your cologne...
I see a car that looks like yours...
I drive by your house a lot...
Wonder what's behind those doors...
Does she treat you like I did?
Does she know how good you are?
Would she worship at your feet?... and even if so,
... she's no me.
No one's done you better,
And no one loves you more;
And it's so hard to write this letter...
But, it evens up the score.
I know the guilt won't kill you;
But, I hope it does you good.
I pray you figure out it's me...
... Baby, I wish you would.
Anonymously yours . . . forever