S.R. Appelmans
These days all I can do is
look back at you with harlequin eyes
that see the way it is and the way
it could have been
You told me you were proud
of me and I cried because I knew
that you meant it
I can’t have that which is
right in front of me
Like the dog they buried up to its neck
I am driven mad for something
just out of reach
