Someday
by Donald Calhoun
Shivering, sitting sideways in a cold chair,
I wonder about the purpose of her stare.
I have no idea why I don't say to her
that I really do care and want to be her lover.
She wouldn't believe me.
I know it.
Laughter would fill the air if ever
I could tell her how I feel.
I am a poor comedian at that.
Her presence makes me fill with what can only be called joy.
Her scents create the will to love in a lonely boy.
If she were the sun, it would suit me.
I would be happy encircling her without thought,
The center of all that I do.
But I cannot tell her
Of the warmth and light she brings to my heart,
Though outside it's cold and dark.
Maybe someday I will....
Maybe someday....
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