An original poem by Coeur d’un Poète.
I wait for you to speak,
but you don’t say a word.
Your motions are meek,
and pensive to avoid discord.
I open my heart, unrequited,
hoping for some change of fortune
only to find this conversation abandoned,
and a continued misfortune.
I wait for what feels like years
from an answer on your behalf,
but confirmed are my fears,
that our prospect makes you laugh.
Your contemptuousness is tactless,
the hallmark of the beautiful elite.
Do I have any hope of a chance
to rise above conditions I must cheat?
Your beauty houses impossible standards
unattainable for us mere mortal men,
whose attraction is lost to restrictive slander
and bound for rejection again and again.
Fairness is faltered when faced with beauty
over which men can hardly ever sway.
Here I am, honoring my inner duty,
with no possibility of pulling you my way.
You look upon me like you’re levels above,
like a queen seated before her suitors.
Me and mine fellows compete for your love,
but only I remain the lesser jester.
Yours are impossible standards
that I can’t come close to reach.
Were it not for ambitions unanswered,
I may never have given this speech.
Now I must move on towards another,
or abandon my search altogether.
Do consider these words, would-be lover,
upon searching for someone better.