An inner sadness in the soul, you called it
Keeping you in the shadows
On the edge of everything
And then we met and you knew you could be loved.
Other hands have held my hand since then
Bu never that way
Never like your loving fingers
That slipped through mine so effortlessly.
Walking in crowds together
Looking at paintings,
At eccentric lovers.
We knew our love ran deeper,
Only shadowed by the something darker
That lay behind your eyes.
We walked back to that quaint little guest house,
The one by the river,
The one with the gold plated door handles
But neglected and scruffy inside,
An elegant chic remaining of an era more glorious than our own.
We heard the couple in the room next door making love,
Screaming, yelling, making such a fuss,
While we sat quietly on our bed,
Silently lost in the present
And in the dark future
Where we would be separated.
I catch a glimpse of you in every man's face,
Every quiet inward looking man,
Not running with the crowd
But more gently looking deep within,
Not afraid of his own shadows
Or his darker pain.