Blind as a bat I stumbled
through the frost bitten fog of memory into something unfamiliar
Every time that I heard that lilt, that subtle sorrow and hurt
I felt a little bit lighter
I wrote and I cherished our moments together
The paragraphs flowed like rivers, but you stopped them like a dam
A dam of times that could never be and of feelings that could never be shared
Not that I care
But it stung
It stung like the ringing in my ears after you told me
It stung after the fantasies of you disappeared
When I felt empty and broken
And when they emerged again after just one touch
If love is but a garden of roses and daisies
then you are the wasp hiding among the thorns
Doubts and questions flood my mind as I try to find an answer
To if I was wrong
When you touched my neck it was but a dream
but when you touched my hand I felt it more
If life is but a fantasy then why is mine so dreary
and why does no-one get what they want
If insanity is what I’m feeling then to hell with happiness and ecstasy
Because only one or two or three can understand this eulogy
this eulogy to my sanity