Was this ever real?
Were these emotions ever true?
As I sold myself for you.
A token of our commitment.
As my heart shown true.
I fought for you.
Against family, against friends.
And you look at me like the enemy.
When we talked,
As I laid that white, golden masterpiece on your finger.
We had plans to overcome.
As we believed we were meant to be together.
But now it seems like cold, blue steel.
If only we could be true.
If only we could follow through with what we decided.
I am ready too.
But even if my heart says yes.
It takes two to turn this steel,
Into the masterpiece it was again.
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Comments about this poem (Untitled by Andrew Peterkin )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
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(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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