Love Loves But Loves Not Me

There are no threads of justice no gifts of glee
For love loves but loves not me
A cycle of words a circle of hurt
A layer of dead seeds planted in my earth
A drop of rain in the parched desert
A spark in the raging hearth
There are no presents of peace no gentle melody
For love loves but loves not me
A dying leaf in the great forest
A ray of sun as it fades in the west
A silent beach inviting the waves as a guest
A flying cloud incited to mourn for a rest
There are no cuffs of cotton no feelings to free
For love loves but loves not me
A chord in the symphony the world’s song
A lessoned etched in the hearts of right and wrong
A blade of grass on the fields of a valley’s throng
There are no shards of truth no hugs from reality
For love loves but loves not me