I know this isn't original,
And that it may sound cliché,
But hark my words, and listen close
To all I have to say:
Sitting at home alone in the dark,
Wishing for someone to hold,
Not knowing who or when or where,
Just someone to keep off the cold.
In love with being in love.
Listening to worn out love songs,
Taking pleasure in their words,
But knowing that you can't relate,
And having them hack at you like swords.
In love with being in love.
Imaging in restless dreams,
That precious outside connection,
Binding two and forming one,
Making naught but perfection.
In love with being in love.
Writing poems such as these,
To express that utmost desire,
Of ceasing to be a spectator,
And unleashing that inner fire.
In love... with being in love.
Bronze trophy winner
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