Your are as the breeze that

sends me the scent of lilac.

Oh how is it that scent

sends chills up and down my back?

Is this all from within

setting there lying low?

Of this craving

never have I known.

Answers to it's source

I do not have.

Where it shall lead

will it be happy or sad?

What you think

of this, I cannot concieve.

Of my open thoughts

how will you recieve?

I have searched

for what will not be.

I have chased that which

I shall never in my life see.

Always avoiding

the proverbial broken heart.

Picking up the roses

before they fall apart

Forever to have them

day after day.

Listening to all the words

they have to say.