The Fool I Am
Never ceasing to pretend
that one day soon I'll have your hand.
However this will never come to pass.
The fool I am it would never last.
The fool I am with a heart of glass.
The fool I am who will soon at last,
be ripped and torn from the past.
You could not love nor could I blame,
thee a fool who seems quite plain.
The fool I am I hoped you would,
but clearly I'm not all that good.
The fool I am, so beaten and weary.
When will I be found worthy?
poem by Michael McParland
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
