The Path

There was a man who walked the same path everyday,
He hadn't been born to it but he'd chose the way

He'd knowingly made her his Sun,
but while he spinned in circles, she had moved on

His friend stood to the side offering love and help from the start,
But he couldn't hear her, for he was deaf to all but the beating of his broken heart

His pockets were full of this and that, a hanky or so he'd found on the path;
maybe it would lead him to his love or perhaps bring her back

Alas what he was looking for couldn't be found,
For by those feelings she was no longer bound

She had chosen her way and was living once more,
While he crouched lonely, outside the door

He himself had chosen this path,
Like someone choosing to walk on shattered glass

He could fix his heart at any time,
But if this was suggested he'd accuse them of crime

How could he who's love was so pure,
Just give up and put it on the shelf

He never realized this was all about himself

Once in a while he'd turn to his friend,
Who would welcome him and make amends

But soon enough it would show;
He was just using her, just wanted to know.

Know how his love was, so far away
And through his friend perhaps he could say

She would hurt at this for she's believed he cared,
But it seemed he had too many problems to ever be aware

She was friends to both, but the Sun responded to her love and gave it back,
Sometimes double,
He gave nothing at all an only called when in trouble

She'd waited patiently with nothing in return, just trying to make him happy
Maybe then he'd see... but perhaps it was not to be

For he still walks the path and she continues to wait,
Trying to be strong

For she fears what would happen if he were to finally discover he'd been wrong,
And he'd reach out his hand... but she'd be gone.