What Am I To You…Really?

An afterthought…
Maybe.

Or perhaps,
The oxygen,
In each
Of your breaths,
That you take…

So wrongfully,

For granted.

Is it possible,
For you to peel
From your eyes
The shellac,
Of this world’s distractions…

To see,
And accept,

And perhaps…

To cherish,

What is really important,
And meaningful,
To our existence?

Don’t you sense,
How deeply I want
To please you,
And serve you,

And love…

You…

Just you?

Perhaps not.

I won’t remain,

For long,

Your afterthought.

Our separation,
Draws near.

Then,

The painful reality,

Will confront,
Us,

Both.

What am I

To you…

Really?

 

 

 

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

4 thoughts on “What Am I To You…Really?

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