If I could, to pieces, myself reduce
Your silent passing glances wouldn't break
The perceived strength I feign to reproduce
When others' eyes search mine for my sake.
(Why love must of one demand exclusion
Can't of my Reason comprehend or prove
What love must of all loves be conclusion
When it feels my love is by many moved.)
Such glances cold my Sisyphean heart
Enduring burns the broken glass of it
And finds upon the morn it not apart
But feigned preparing for another hit.
Which comes with every thought and dream of you
With every passed past, present, future you.
