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Looking at your picture
I see such angelic beauty.
How I love your eyes, your hair, and your lips.
Your smile is unforced and your face is so open.
But I wonder what lies deep within.
Behind those vivacious windows of your soul.
I try to see your true heart and your real longing.
I wonder if ever I could find myself there.
As I look at your picture, hopes and dreams and doubts come along.
Flooding into my soul and drowning all reason.
I see no answer yet, but still in reverie, I linger.
Misery is on my soul.
Anguish that reaches into all that I am.
To love and to receive no answer for my heart.
To seek a return and not to find reply.
It is a torment that I find hard to bear.
Yet bear it I will, for I cannot, dare not, let go.
Just in case my heart’s answer comes.
It may come with the next call.
The next letter,
the returned look, or touch of hand.
It may never come at all.
I wait for every distant hope to blossom.
Lingering in fruitless anticipation for an end to my pain.
An end to the misery.