Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Brooding

Shrouded, I walk the night
Cloaked in my suspicions
Hiding in shadows
I would like to believe you when you say you love me
But it seems too good to be true
I fear it must be gratitude
For I am not good enough to warrant the touch
Of even the lowliest creature on the earth
Let alone one so beautiful as you.
October 24 2007