My heart is too weak for the burden it holds, a

Weight that grows with each passing day, and

I often wonder if I were to set it down before her

Now, would she touch my face, perhaps smile and

Say yes I know how it is you feel, as women often

Seem to know these things, regardless of the walls

Men try and build as a means to hide that which

Should not be hidden, the torments of walking

Alone beside the ones we love, stealing glances

To reflect upon later when the night comes down

Like a vale of tears, and the winds of April hold

Council with the gloaming of our troubled souls

But I should not portend what other may do as

A means to divert from what I hold within, and

Why must loving another feel like such a crime

That I cannot simply tell her, out of a fear that

Something so pure and right could topple our

Friendship like a house of flimsy cards? And

Sometimes it occurs to me that it should not be

This way, because the uncertainty as to how she

Feels in turn, in her secret heart, adds to the weight

I carry, knowing that I love her enough to face any

Possibility, to be grateful that I can walk beside her

As a friend, regardless of how much I truly love her

And there is no greater burden, than to hope in vain…

END

“Burdens”