Some of us are quiet lovers
Preferring warmth under covers
Fireplaces, fur, and hugs
Drinking from hot chocolate mugs

Some are wild and full of heat
Racing, sweating, never neat
Lively in activity
But hardly ever meant to be

Other still are calm and pure
Always in their love secure
Sitting at a breakfast nook
Reading papers or a book

Some are of romantic bent
But they have horrid temperament
Often weeping or a sigh
Lamenting as the love slips by

I prefer the honest lover
The kind that loves you like no other
An honest love that never ends
These best lovers are also friends

Far off and distant, tired to see,
The person craved just like me,
Prayed and preyed in the deepest ways,
To get over his hollow days,

The balance had ruptured,
Chaos grumbling,
What would he even gain...
To fathom the roots of his diseased pain,

Wonder without a heart,
What you see
The world straying in disbelief,
Of the mumbled words that went unheard,

Love was a ray of light
And the angel he saw,
Was busy making love to the sunshine,
He was left out or was he chosen?

The picture of emptiness,
Drawn and washed away,
Yet somehow, the dried scars
Seem to find a way,

And the colour of laughter was red,
Everything else black!
Broken by the plague of indifference,
Caused by knowledge reluctantly seeping in,

Can you listen to the choices made that
Bleed tears in silent darkness,
Searching for care in care alone,
As reality tries to slap him out of it.

Things could have been better,
If someone just gave it a try,
But
Now the day was over,
... The sun will rise again in all its grandeur,
Yet ... nothing had changed...