by Carrie
A four-letter word,
A simple meaning.
Yet, I’ve never heard
Or understood the feeling.
A dance for two,
A lovely view.
Hands holding tight.
What I’d give for just a night.
A rose-filled bouquet,
Like my ma always said
‘It was meant to be’
But not for me.
There was never blushing,
Or deep-rooted longing.
Nothing worth crushing.
There must be something wrong.
As I get older, my bed feels colder.
The word has become a theory,
While I search to cry on a shoulder.
No, love is simply not meant for me.
© Carrie 2024-06-22