Poem By Gene Olson

The waiting is the worst part
Not knowing where your heart may be…
Is it still beating or am I wasting my time?
Has it been discarded like yesterdays trash?

Know, my dear, that I keep your heart as you keep mine
I will never leave it unattended no matter what happens
Without it mine is as useless as
melted ice cream on a hot summer day

The guilt we share is almost consuming
Yet we can resist our hearts desires
No more than iron can resist
the force of a magnet

my heart aches when we are together
my heart aches when we are apart
my heart aches for you
my heart beats for you

Since I met you love has blossomed
I have given myself to you mind, body and soul
And because of it we are doomed
to exist for those fleeting moments

I can stop this torrid affair
no more than I could stop
the water from filling the
bottom of the sea

We are doomed to this existence
Living for the sound of our voices
Living for the moment that fate smiles
and chance allows us to fulfill our desires

And know, at that moment, time will stand still
The sun will rise only at our whim
The moon will be eternally ours
and the poets will truly have something to write about

For our love coming to fruition
will bring tears from heaven upon the world
Creating a joy so complete that
the angels will sing sonnets of our love

Such is the power of our unfulfilled love

Comments about Unfulfilled

A real Romeo and Juliet piece. Blissful and wistful to read. t x

Rating Card

5,0 out of 5
1 total ratings

Other poems of OLSON

The Portrait

I find myself transfixed by the most amazing portrait
And as I examine it with a critics eye
I become more aware of the depth
And the detail on the surface

If My Heart Had Wings

If my heart had wings
It could not fly any higher
Than it does when you and I are together

The Best Gift Of All

No words are needed
The distance is insurmountable
The communication could not be clearer
No satalite could transmit in higher definition

The Quilt Of Love

The late summer breeze blows
A hint of winter’s coming snow
A hint of peaches ripe on the vine
A strange mix that makes the senses reel

A Wasted Youth

The call came in early in the morning
I was dreaming of my love, so distant and untouchable