A fool to care,
And a fool to dream,
A fool to hope,
Upon a spark, a gleam.

An ember born,
Of passion’s flame,
To mock my heart,
With a single name.

Radiant, the angel,
Both bright and smiling,
A gift, a treasure,
Worth the while.

Shall never see,
This lonely poem,
As I’ve given up,
And hope’s gone home.

Such is the curse,
Of “I love you” too late,
To sit on the side-lines,
To wither, to wait.

Such is the lot,
Of love never said,
To be unrequited,
To hope in love’s stead.

But what do I know,
Of love and it’s cares,
A daydreaming heart,
Who dabbles, not dares.

To take but one chance,
And give it a shot,
The gift of romance,
Which I never got.