Long Lost

You are not the same,
nor am I.
I lost myself while searching for you.
I count the days.
Oh, how they fly!
Months down; still no sign of you.

So now I go,
though not far;
It is time to find and save myself.
I let the pain flow
from my heart;
The heart you placed upon the dusty shelf.

I reach way up
to retrieve what's left
of the parts of me thought long gone.
There was so much love-
strong, passionate, deft-
but it won't be yours for long.

I yearn for you,
King of my heart;
It's time to let you go.
But when I do,
my heart of hearts,
you'll regret it; this I know.

Reviews

[Cyprian Van Dyke]

Nice poem, well said!

"The heart you placed upon the dusty shelf," great line!