IRONIC

How ironic, you are with me every second of day, but I can't have you. I see you when I see other women, but my eyes have not beheld you. I can smell you with every flower that comes my way, but you are hundreds of miles away. I touch you through my dreams, but I only touch myself, how ironic. I hurt at every moment, but there is no medicine for my illness, so I must live with this torment within my beating heart, until I hear the stillness. How ironic that two human beings meant to be as one, will always be as two, how ironic that I have never met someone, that I love so true. How ironic our voice soothes the other's ear, how ironic with such a distance, there still remains a fear. How ironic that I feel no color, yet I feel so blue. How ironic that we sleep with them as feelings fade away, rolling over with romantic interlude, only to feel decay. How very ironic, but I still love you.