Crying love   The man, hearing the boy cry wolf paid no attention, for the last three times had been nothing but pranks... the boy was never seen again  I hold her in my arms tight. I feel safe, enveloped in dark silence, I squeeze tighter to make sure it is really happening, in response she holds a little tighter. I smell her hair, on the verge of tears, she whispers in my ear "don't worry, you are safe". I've cried love for less then this...  I spill my soul in my words, she takes it up, understands, comforts me. She is a well of wisdom which I cast my pail in to and drawl forth betterment in my self. The conversations we have feed my being and help me understand my self better then I ever thought I would. I have cried loved for less then this...  and yet I know that this is not love, I know that we will not spend the rest of our lives in each others arms. This, however, I believe, is the closes I have ever come to this emotion, I care for her more then even I will ever know. So I hold my tongue...

---

This was written by "Puck-" on the efnet. He's a really cool guy who I just met, so be nice to him! This poem is Pucks property, any unauthorized use of this and you will be sorry! Check out his homepage at: http://home.inreach.com/puck/

---

BACK