How much do I long to be
the girl in your dreams,
the one you think of constantly?
How much do I wish to be
the subject of your poetry,
so lovely, so eloquent and melancholy?
I can't imagine being so,
how I wish you could know.
How can one dare to hope
when everything has become so cold,
when all such feelings would have left you by now,
when such feelings are not allowed?
I don't think I can do this anymore,
what was I even waiting for?
Perhaps I saw an open door.
But I was mistaken; it was a misunderstanding.
I am now shut out, left with nothing,
Left with nothing, out in the cold,
and I do not know what my future holds.
Is it then my fate to be alone,
to live, to die, always seeking someone?
These melodramatic ramblings of mine,
These fears will probably subside with time...
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