And I guess loving you
became a habit, so here
I am trying to conquer it
but as they say,
‘old habits die hard’.

©Desired Dreamer (Bhupen)

Years ago
We stayed up till
3 am talking,
And today
I don’t even know
How to say hi,

I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

i wrote out my dreams with a pen
and placed them in a cup
i looked into the stars and then
with pride i held it up

i toasted to the moon above
and branches of the trees
i then said my goodbye to love
and threw them in the breeze

and maybe, maybe there's a day
when one might pass you by
but dream, only a dream can stay
only in dreams we fly