I tried to get into your house,
(more like a castle really)
For three years.
For the first year I knocked on your door,
And beat at your gate.
For the second year I waited outside,
Contentedly, assuredly.
By the third year I was ready to leave,
Angry with myself.
But as I packed up,
You called out,
And let me in.
We sat and talked, or walked.
You showed me everything I wanted to see,
Gave me everything I wanted, and more.
In your castle.
For a while things were great,
The years before were minutes.
But then the castle scared you.
It scared me too.
You wanted to leave, and I watched,
As you cried out windows and beat at the walls.
I had only just gotten here.
Then one day you tried to leave,
And I stopped you.
So what now?
You are still stuck in your castle, and I there too.
Though not stuck, I want to be with you.
I wonder should I have just gone home,
And built a castle of my own.
But no.
I will leave this castle, and you will come too.
It may take three more years,
And another three, and another.
But however we get there,
I am no longer I,
And you no longer you.
My friend.
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 11:35 AM UTC