I wish that I were with you, But although I like you, we are unlike. I like your look. I look your way, And wish that we were two. I am through With pretending. Maybe we are through. You have your way; so I am unliked. I am lost, but you are gay; You are not alone, and I am blue. Unknown, I follow where you lead me Stumbling into pretenses, illusions, rhyme. You go on, following your needs, While I follow you, as I will do until my time Is through, asking you to hear me plead. I would love you still, though all time were mine.
December 1972