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I'll Never Know Search the cover, read the spine, The title is your name. You’re such a new, distressing book to me; I'll never know you well. Bound in all I idolize, But on a shelf so high, That all I do is look to you, stare, And know I cannot fly. Do you know I'm watching, And do you see me down here? Your words hint of volumes I want to know, Of someone I wish I'd known. Perhaps you story could have changed How I've grown, or how I'll grow. I'm still a child, Who wants a tale, To inspire his own. I'll never know you well enough, To know more than fact and simple stuff. Your life is a closed tome to me, But with each chapter revealed I see, Parts and paragraphs I wish Were more within, The scribbled ink that makes up me. Is it so much to want to know you well, Read your story enough to tell, If perhaps our pages fell, From the same pen? The same scribe? I can't tell. I'll never know you well enough, To call you my close friend, To know all that you left untold, Left me wondering, wishing. You'll leave before I know, the end. |
Additional Notes:
For clarification, this poem is not meant to sound romantic in anyway. I can see how it might be misconstrued as such, but I hope I didn't fail in conveying it's real theme. If you do grasp it and think you have suggestions that could help me make it better please let me know. I posted a poem I wrote before this one that is fairly similar in theme called "Empty Hands". I don't care for thumbs-up or thumbs-down critiques, but I greatly value and honestly appreciate critiques that seek to help me learn to be a better poet and to improve my work. Regardless, thanks for even taking the time to read this :-)
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