Who am I to speak of love,
to use language to convey a foreign feeling having only ever loved in dreams.
Who am I to speak of twinkles in an eye I've never seen,
to write a poem of another I've never met.
Who am I to tell of tales of moon lit walks when all I've ever known is darkness.
Who am I to speak of kisses never shared, of moments never taken.
Who am I to close my eyes and wish on stars with all my might.
Who am I to cry about a dream that is a lie,
how can I dream of love having never loved at all?
Who am I to fall in love never knowing what love is.
How can I accept you at your word, if all i've ever known of love is dreams?
How can I accept your love as love, if all i've ever known of love is lies.
YOU ARE READING
I Am Mute
PoetryI am mute but these are my words. My interpretation of life, death, love, and everything else in between. Starting with a poem inspired by a few lines in the book the silver star. And other little tidbits that might not mean that much to you, but if...
