Unrequited Love
My Pen Drips Of Sorrow And On This Paper,
I Write Each Tear.
He never told her of the love,
He held within his heart.
Though he knew she longed to hear it,
He just could not impart,
The feelings that he had for her,
Although she was his bride.
It seemed to her that if he cared,
His love he would not hide;
And so it went through all their years,
They drifted slow apart,
Lonely, sad and unfulfilled,
They each had broken hearts.
Judy Ball
Aug.13,2011 For Just Write Contest by Constance LaFrance
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