Misunderstandings

I wrote a poem — you heard it as scolding,

Each tender word, your silence left unfolding.

I sang a song — you thought I was screaming,

But it was my soul, in melody dreaming.


I longed to see you — you called me a spy,

When all I sought was a glimpse, not a lie.

I tried to speak — you heard me complain,

But I only whispered your name through the pain.


I reached with care — you pulled away,

Mistaking my warmth for a storm in the way.

I stood beside you — you felt me invade,

When all I brought was light in your shade.


I held my heart — you saw it as blame,

Yet it beat for you, never seeking fame.

I gave my truth — you thought it was war,

But it was peace I had opened the door for.


I stayed in silence — you called it pride,

But I was swallowing storms deep inside.

I smiled at you — you turned away,

Missing the love I tried to convey.


I waited in hope — you called it control,

But it was patience carved from my soul.

I dreamed of us — you called it a lie,

While I built a future beneath the sky.





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