Conversations Poem by H E Alexander

I've had so many conversations
that you will not ever hear,
they're spoken only within my head
and whispered not in your ear.
I tell you of all my deepest thoughts,
my schemes, my designs, my plans,
I tell you every travelled place,
of the culture of those lands.

I want to know your most deepest soul,
of the dreams inside your heart,
the things that you do from day to day;
whatever you will impart.
But all your secrets you keep so close-
perhaps there's a lack of trust-
you only reveal the merest glimpse
of what you suppose you must.

I'm driving along a one-way street
where there's nothing coming back;
I can only go this way so far
‘fore I take another track.
I look for signposts along the road
to guide the right way toward:
should I but press on to journey's end
or turn now and head homeward?

So I stay self-speaking in my head
answered only by an echo
of each word I wish your lips to speak;
maybe it's time to let go?
"Que sera sera, " I hear you say
and what will be, may well be,
but, I'll e'er have a good thought for you,
perhaps you'll do so for me.