My ode to the one who got away………

ps. he’s in no way related to Superman…..just saying


I’m sick

I can’t even write the words

Much less say them

It’s like binding cords

From a weaver – caning


He’s – ,

Of course its a he,

Why else would words fail me

Weak knees,

So lonely


He’s perfect

Okay not really

But he listens, he smiles

He gives my world some meaning

My minutes, miles


He’s music

Varied, emotioned

Symphonies and rap songs

High-pitched and low-toned

Whatever I seek


Not mine

No matter what I do

His heart belongs to another

My soul is

Out of tune


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