Waiting for Love

Love isn't always there.

Here I sit by

the warmth of the fire.

Wondering. Waiting.

Waiting for the moment

my true love appears.

I still cannot see what lies ahead,

but through the fire

my hopes and dreams lie.

 

“Where are you?” I cry

into the night.

Tears gather in pools

around my feet.

My face shimmers

with beads of water

from the moonlight above.

 

Here I sit by

the warmth of the fire.

Wondering. Waiting.

Waiting for

my true love.

Author's Note

As a young girl, I always wanted someone to be in love with me. As of now, I've quit that delusion. Back then, it was so strong and so hopeful, but I stopped believing at about thirteen. Even though it is nice to believe that there is someone out there for everyone, sometimes there isn't. I remember stamping that hope out, which is one of those things that still remains to be brightened to this day.
Can I ever be loved? And will I let myself be loved?

Tell me your thoughts, my readers, especially my female ones. I'd like to hear what you have to say.

Reviews

[EMF]

Well, I'm male. 47 and happily married. And your work reminds me that even a , well, whaetver I was doesn't mattre. It reminds me of how I love now, when I thought no chances would come along..Power and sheer emotive pressure are throughout your work, including here. I'm a pedantic reviewer who can argue on line for days about a comma placement, but your work simply hits emotive reaction on a grand scale.
I can only say again that this is faultless.

[Jesse Lancaster]

The variation and change between the persona's grief and patience is much like that of the changes in one's love life. You can be grieving over a lost love for months only for a new person to come into your life shortly afterwards and change everything again. A great poem that shows how lonesome one can become when waiting for the unknown.