How she missed the illusion of being loved. <br />That joyful sensation of walking on air, <br />while accepting the volatile nature of change <br />hope became worn, too thin to share. <br /> <br />Uninvited, pale shadows appeared to form <br />Like ice in the bite of a thoughtful stare <br />love became weak and fed upon silence <br />differences grew, recognized everywhere <br /> <br />She hid disappointment in watery eyes, <br />pretended her interests, lay elsewhere. <br />Soft sighs often worn as a weary disguise <br />until one day he left and her heart lay bare. <br /> <br />Love is just an illusion she wept bitterly, <br />a start full of promise, collision mid-air. <br />But once there was bliss, a lingering kiss. <br />She just had to close her eyes, to be there<br /><br />Ann Beard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/being-loved-4/
