Bittersweet Poem by Dustin Lambert

My heart has known only brine.

Never would I have understood the curse of the pen.
Or sympathize with the weeping of men.
Taken to task, by what their hands cannot embrace.
For they have felt loves, sweet bitter taste.

Now, I love thee, a lady so fine.

The pen in my hand, is a torturous endeavor.
Scribing my emotions, from my heart onto paper.
I weep throughout the night,
and lament most of the day.
For I am a victim,
of my imaginations cruel play.
I cannot hold,
love in my hand.
The intricacies and details, fall through my fingers like sand.
The blush in the sky,
became more vivid and true.
From the very moment,
I fell in love with you.

Thy bitter sweet taste, is mine.