poem

I was angry,
because I knew you'd never be sorry,
for what you put me through.

I don't know if you are being sincere
and you feel love for me again,
or if this is some sort of cruel deception
to bring me down.

I should not be so cruel,
and say one thing and do another,
out of mistrust and fear.

My heart does ache,
and I do get lonely,
it seems I can't hide it,
because you always seem to find it,
and you take it in your hands,
as if it was yours again,
like it had never left,
I don't believe it ever did,
though I tried.

I love you,
that is where my heart is,
and that is where it has been.