This Poem Does Not Exist

Could I be a true romantic?

Will I ever dare believe?

Shall love and ever after

All foolish hearts receive?

How I ache to dwell in sunlight,

Wish on stars for life in rose,

But even within daydreams,

My pessimism grows.

For me, there are no shining knights,

No prince braves dragon fire,

No soul to walk in step with mine,

Or fairer words inspire.

And yet,

I was enthralled…

Fixated by his arctic eyes,

Icy shade of glacier blue,

‘midst all that has ever been seen

There’s not a fairer hue.

First sight, I could not recall,

Nor recollect the last,

But somewhere in between the two

Fate’s favored spell was cast.

Eros and his wicked bow

Struck an arrow in my chest,

Poison seeped into my veins

No logic could contest.

Affection overcame me,

As I stole a lovesick stare,

Falling deeper in the gaze

‘neath waves of golden hair.

Bewitchment set upon me,

Though enchantment did not rise

Solely by the will of fate

or fleeting lock of eyes.

So, how did it begin?

I hardly even know,

Yet in the span of years

I have felt the feeling grow.

Now every message read,

I draw a deeper breath,

As if that sigh will be my last

‘fore reaching doors of death.

For every passing glance we’ve made,

‘midst smiles and greeting words,

I felt the thundering of my heart

Beat with the wings of birds.

A single spark within my soul

Could ignite a raging flame,

I feel it burning in my heart

By mention of your name.

In dreams I walk beside you,

Warmth of your hand in mine,

But in the cruel realm of sleep

Those visions cross a line.

For there I gaze into your eyes,

Your arms around my waist,

Enchanted by that perfect smile

I melt in your embrace.

Still I feel the phantom graze

Of a pure and tender kiss,

And as I rise to waking hours

I hate myself for this.

Villainy of my deeper mind,

Do tortures know no end?

Forever to you, I’ll be known

As nothing more than friend.

I’ve seared that thought to memory,

I’ve come to live and cope,

But deep within this foolish heart

Remains a shred of hope.

Should these words ever reach you,

Forgive what you have read,

Ignore what has been written

And all confession said.

Though the verses here are true,

They are of no consequence,

For “love” left unrequited

Is but “love” by fool’s pretense.

I know enough to gather

You could never feel the same,

But to lose you as a friend

Would be an even greater shame.

So I turn into a cynic,

Not cut out for romance,

It hurts more in believing

That we ever had a chance.