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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