iambic pentameter

Just Maybe.

Four years ago, I wrapped my battered hope in sorrow and despair and carefully placed it on a dark shelf behind my Will. I went about my days, then, drearily; I could not see the future for the gloom and as time trundled on I near forgot that hope had ever sung, or spread its…

Bereft

I woke this morning from another dream In which you were again ignoring me. The longing ebbs, but never goes away, That you might one day see me as I see. No matter that only your ghost remains Or that it lives but in faint memory. Dreams fade away, but feelings catch and sink, An…