Endless Love

My lonliness awaits me like a cup of tea.
I see people sitting at other tables
ordinary people, just like me.

We slow, we go, it's a temporary logo
we wear, with all the courage of being.

All the importance of business,
the constant callers on the cell,
the looks of worry and the good advice,
some offered to, and some given by;
throw in the holidays,
and you go mad trying to keep up.

It's a Christmas full of thorns
and broken ornaments,
of worn out and tired promises
in a worried America.

We have our loved ones,
and we love them all we can
who would have thought that the limitation
would be
how much love could be accepted
and that I would come to have
endless love
that could never be given?