Why play At Being Real?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: March 16, 2017

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Submitted: March 16, 2017



He blew into my life like a sweet summer breeze,
Stole my heart in an instant, made me weak in the knees...

He seemed so sincere when he'd look in my eyes
And say the things I've waited to hear my whole life.

I thought he was different... I thought he was real.
I never thought I could feel the way he made me feel.

I just don't understand why he wasted the time
When there was nothing to gain on his end or mine.

It was perfectly senseless...not one reason why.
He would just disappear without saying goodbye.

He had me floating on air, then let me crash to the ground.
It's too much to wrap my mind around.

Why play at being real? No one wins in the end.
Someone always gets hurt when the other pretends.

Why say all those things when you don't mean a word?
It's mean and it's cruel...it's completely absurd.

Now I'm left here to wonder what could've gone wrong,
Why he just stopped calling, why he strung me along?

My thoughts, they consume me, like a crop consumes rain.
Another sleepless night just might drive me insane.

I toss and I turn over and over again.
I can't help but feel like I've lost my best friend.

But a friend would be honest, wouldn't play with your heart.
A friend wouldn't lie to you right from the start.

A friend would still be there come tomorrow...
A friend would comfort, not cause you sorrow. 

I wonder if....whatever his reasons may be
That surely he knew his actions would hurt me?

And I wonder if from time to time
The thought of me might cross his mind?

Does he think about my "angel" eyes
Filled with tears because he lied?

Does my memory haunt him in his sleep?
For him it's probably not that deep.

I truly wish him all the best, 
Hope he's okay and finds happiness... 

Finds everything he's looking for.... 
Good health, true love and so much more.

I miss him, and it breaks my heart,
That it had to end before it got to start.


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