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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