:And back to the unspoken, unrequited love theme. Or is it unrequited? I feel this poem is my most sad.:
I could not tell you how I feel,
Although for years I felt I must,
For fear the words would make it real
And burn our friendship into dust.
You might have thought it petty lust
If seen desire in my eyes
So better, then, to keep your trust
And give you mere half-truths and lies.
One time, in you, beneath that guise
I saw what I had hid so long
I was not sure—thought silence wise—
The years hardening that silence strong.
I can not ask if love you hid
For fear you'd say, "One time, I did."