Burning to ash

The desolate childish eyes seek an answer,
where it lost it’s childhood,
when I would roam the country side,
amidst the paddy, and the river running by,
I watched you, saw it in your eyes,
I tried to hide, not in fear,
Was shy, afraid of joy,
you walked by, i touched the air,
found the essence, the lost one of mine,
I stood there, smoked, shared two,
I spoke, not my heart, It longed to hear,
I had walked, in rage, against my helplessness,
to reach out to breathe the air you breathe in,
the cubicle, the one where you reside,
the alley where you walk,
I wish I could love and be,
but I know you cannot, for I’m a cinder,
burning to ash,
sooner, and you will know me no more,
but you burnt the fire back in me,
and I could write, write love,
the page is my heart, the words my voice,
you resurrected me, I’m now alive,
watching your smiles, make believe ones
plastic,
makes me happy though, for you try,
I know I’ll survive, silent and in the shadows,
of my burning desire for love, that I have,
and in the flame of your absence in my life.