Youthful Dreams

For Rose, the object of my once youthful dream, 

a person I never tried to know.

Long, yes, yet on this seventh year it seems

My love is dying; Now I've been seeing

That I have been dreaming such foolish dreams

All I see now is how I've been lying.

Its Generosity has blinded me

Never have I worked tirelessly for it.

For on that year, I changed so you could see

That I can be the best, so I may fit

Simplicity haunted me 'til this day.

It kept me at ease when things got complex.

It gave words yet never right ones to say.

Now it's dying, I regret its effects.

Prudence showed your grace above all others

It made my dreams much higher than before

Why would I have been looking at others?

For there was no one else I could adore.

Then I left. A land of sand welcomed me

Bliss came into both my mind and my heart

Joy found me in a place I did not see

Yet I returned, for I was torn apart.

When I returned, I was given a choice:

Come back to a past I've left behind

Or start anew: a present with no voice.

Seeing you again, I made up my mind.

Then, in two years, I stood in cold silence.

Still a shadow of generosity.

Still at such loss in prudence's absence.

A broken product of simplicity.

On this seventh year I have come to see

That youthful dreams are foolish to follow

Trying to open doors without a key

With its death, I have become so hollow

In hopeful wishes, I lay my love's death.

In scornful regrets, I waste my own breath.