I found myself growing weary of waiting by the door,
Hoping for a burst of new happiness to sweep in.
As I glanced around to make space for this new joy,
It dawned on me that I had been blind to my blessings all along.
The shiny wrapping may have faded away,
But the steady warmth of love had been right there.
It bloomed in those fragrant "just because" flowers,
In the comfort of warm hugs and soothing cuddles,
And in those little acts of kindness,
Expressed through everyday routines.
Like the dishes that magically clear away after dinner,
Or the morning tea made just the way I like it.
Love isn't about grand gestures or poetic moments.
It thrives in the everyday details that truly matter.
When you find love that sees you, chooses to remain, and recognizes your value.  
Not requiring you to chase after it or prove your worth, lean in and breathe it in.

In every field of roses,
There is one that is golden.
It shimmers and glimmers in the light,
From the Sun in the morn, and the Moon at night.
Its petals are glamorous.
Sometimes they reside inside a forest.

There’s always a bee,
For every golden rose.
The hive sees nothing,
Only the chosen bee knows.
A game played since time began,
The game of love, where few seem to win in the end.

He had found his golden rose,
They had grown rather close.
Her golden hair sparkled in the light,
Whether throughout the day or at night.
She was…glamorous,
And they bought a house near a forest.
Life seemed to be going well,
He had her and never thought of anyone else.
But sometimes bees cheat at fate’s game,
And the golden rose was a victim of this plague.

The bee came home one night,
Light emanated from the bedroom.
The bee opened the door,
And he lost everything that he could lose.
His golden rose was with another,
They had been together all night.
Evidence all o’er the floor and the king-sized bed.
They were in the bathroom,
Showering with the new, pristine shower head.

The bee had been played for a fool,
False gold covered the rose he was devoted to.
All at once, her shimmer faded away,
Her petals wilted as they decayed.
The rival bee held onto the rose,
As he kissed her on the nose,
The fool had been planning to propose,
To his supposed…golden rose.

For every bee there is a golden rose,
But there are many fakes, covered in fool’s gold.
They crush the bee, make them lose their wings,
And leave nothing but heartache that stings.

It feels unfair ,
How you never noticed
The nights i cried myself to sleep.
Or maybe you did -
and just never showed it


Then you come back
right after I had learned to move on.
You can't be serious -
after I moved on
do you know how cruel that is?
you will never understand
the weight my heart carried.


Now even the thought of you
turns bitter in my chest.
And can you really blame me?
I once believed in holding on ,
but life taught me otherwise.

I never thought
detachment would feel like this.

You cleaned up
any hope that remained
with a dustpan and brush
and threw it into
the trash.

She was standing still, just like I was.  

Her hair swaying in same wind as yesterdays.

Everything was white  

The only exception being the crater.

That was black and a grey gradient.

Apart of her skin the same gradient three or four metres

Coming down from that crater.

It took me some time.

I didn’t want to believe that I couldn’t reach for her

And if I did, she would be cold.

If she wasn’t made of material,

Could I feel her warmth?

I hope they'll think of me
as I will of them.

That I'll be a painful
yet cherished memory,
one that they'll carry with them
as they find new love,
and go on to accomplish
great things.

Perhaps I'll still be
considered one of
their loved ones,
as they always will be
one of mine.

I hope they'll think of me
from time to time,
and smile.