My heart can yurn for no passion,
that is greater than the filling to hamantaschen.
Though I shudder at the feeling, of forlorn,
I cannot describe the anguish you must feel, to wish you were never born.
A part that is lost,
That has never been there before.
I have searched for it,
But cannot continue amymore.
And although my heart yurns for such love,
Maybe it is not meant to be, for what is love without pain,
And what is pain without thee?
©g.a.p
G