A Hesitant Admission

A Hesitant Admission

Why are you so shy
to tell those
who you've felt for last
that the past is just that
and your world
has trekked on?
Surely I see
that you mean
well at heart,
and your love
is certain,
yet it still stings
to watch you
write lies to
previous lives
come and gone.
My soul sings
for your every motion,
yet still there are those
who know not
of our silent tango,
our feet tip-toeing past
as if to not cause a scene.
Yet, this scene is set
in my mind,
and it doesn't take place
in a sleepy ballroom
full of slumbering giants,
giant boulders blocking our path.
Nay, we are prancing
past with pride
as onlookers of all sorts
stare in pleasantness or envy
at the happiness we have.
I don't plan on tripping
anytime soon.