Questions

One of the questions just locked away in my heart,
If someone loves you, can you feel it?
Can you feel the love that’s just radiating from them?
The heat, the warmth, the passion that they feel?
Or do you feel like a piece of stone, cold and distant.

Maybe love isn’t all that it’s built up to be.
Maybe Paris and Helen were fighting on the way to Troy,
and maybe Helen was really kidnapped away from her family,
After all, a tale of heroism about a son of a God is a bit farfetched,
And there’s no viable proof, except for a wooden horse.

But who’s to say who deserves a sense of comfort,
And who deserves to be shut out, undeserving of a simple smile?
Life, sweet yet simple life, is a form of capacity of passion,
How you live with yourself and how you live with others,
Is a way to show yourself how much you can give.

But Helen promised herself away to another,
Long before Paris even set his eyes on the beauty,
Helen had a child, Hermione, who was her flesh and blood,
Why would a wife and mother, who promised to love forever,
Leave something as precious as returned love and a daughter behind?

It’s a mystery, why one would do something so demeaning,
But there’s no on in the world that could say why,
Why would Helen be selfish enough to fall in love with two men;
And why would two men be willing to die for something,
And is love really worth it if you aren’t there to spend your time with them?

Said a poet, a forgotten poet, an unknown poet,
What is life without love, but a life of feeling empty and broken;
But why would someone give up everything on a dream they shouldn’t chase?
Did all the fathers, husbands, soldiers know what they were giving up;
In the name of a pipe dream followed by a prince and a queen?

So how do you answer the age old question about love,
How empty do you feel when you know that they won’t love you back,
And how full do you feel when you know they love you?
Is the glass half empty and do the dreams of love intensify?
Do the dreams leave you motionless, caught between loving them
And the horrid sense of the regret that they will never love you back?

Written April 4 2005.