You never say “I love you” anymore;
you merely turn and stomp out of the door.
Why has our love turned so horribly?
Perhaps life’s changes aren’t good for you . . . me.
We never smile,
seldom kiss,
rarely hug . . .
this isn’t bliss.
I rarely say “I love you” anymore.
I’m ‘shut out’ from one whom I once adored.
Ev’rything, but me, is more important
You curse, push me, while you angrily rant.
Where did love go?
Did it crawl?
Did it fly?
Why haven’t I?
The places love once flourished, when nourished,
may again thrive if it is encouraged.
D.O.A. . . . is our love wearing toe tags?
Diseased, let’s gather up, burn all those rags
and love anew.
Fire the flames,
hold me tight . . .
forget your games.
More than words, we need to act as if loved . . .
overlook the bad times . . . even when we’re bugged.
God meant us to be together for life--
we took our vows to be man and wife.
I love you still.
Do you care?
Or am I
just ‘twirling’ air?
Please learn to say “I love you” ever more.
Don’t you know it’s ‘you’ whom I still adore?
What God’s bound together should stay that way.
So I’m anxiously awaiting . . . that day.