Greener


Close enough to touch you

But too far away to love.

You whisper words of kindness

And show me acts of love.

You pluck me rays of sunshine

And play me songs of woe.

Always standing beside me.

But never in the show.

You pull me close to hold

In secret our hands relay.

The message we both want to hear

But too dangerous a game to play.

I built myself a picket home

With yellow flowers

And fields on which to roam.

I built myself a cage of gold.

Filled with every touch of gay

But still I wish for you to hold

Whenever skies are gray.

Close enough to touch you

But too far away to love.

My picket fence protects me

From greener pastures of love

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