If I am only a temperary substitute
in the darkest shadows of your desire
Then why does your every touch
Place me so much higher
If I am someone who's presence
you will never miss
Why do you tell me you need me
within every kiss
If I am but a wish of yours,
a childish dream within
Then why are you such a saint
and I'm you only sin
If you think I am
Only what meets the eye
Then of what use
Would you other senses be
I often wonder that myself. It is similar to...if we aren't going to think, what good will it do us to speak? Can't have one without the other, and this instance is no different. Fantastic job.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A strong title, I urge you to stick to it. An amazing poem. No one should be a substitute, It's an insult to our devotion. -Kylie M. Lynch