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A poem about a love affair, he wants to know if he is part of her future.
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Second Hand
| I just wish you'd talk to me about the future. Am I a part of it ? Am I even in ? Where do I start our little story ? Where on earth do I begin ? Marriage is made for two people, but triangles are a three sided affair, and when either get out of shape, all that's left is emptiness and despair. My marriage wasn't working, it was over before you came along, because we were no longer attuned, we were both singing a different song. And you were just what I was looking for, someone to give my new life a start, someone who I could love and care for, and someone who would mend my broken heart. But you too were married, and your husband became suspicious, and it's a tangled web that gets woven, many get stranded when you're duplicitous. So you decided that we needed a break, and you drifted out of my life, I thought you were back on the straight and narrow, and the loyal and devoted wife. And that was pretty hard for me, or at least, that's the way it seems, all I had left was an empty feeling, and some tattered and second hand dreams. I was hurt because you didn't want me, in fact, that hurt me to the core, but others, well that simply hurt me even more. So I guess I'd just like to know, one way or the other for sure, I'd like to know about us, I'd just like to know the score. I do really love you, I ache as my heart patiently waits, but time wont stand still for no man, and a second hand never hesitates. Our weekend in Sedona, was a magical and spiritual time, and I hope this poem has moved you, I hope there's a spell in the rhyme. Because it would be called Mount Everest, if my love was a mountain to climb. It would be all the ages past (and future), if that love was a measure of time. It would be all the seas of the world, if that love was an ocean blue-green. It would be the brightest ever rainbow, if that love was all the colors ever seen. It would be called Oxygen, if that love was an air to breathe. It would be the collective hopes of the world, if that love was a dream to believe. And it would be called the Universe, if that love was the stars above, and it is the only wish of this man, to find a woman with that love. |
Allen Jesson
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