The soft ache, a burrowing nail
In the hollow space in my chest
My tear drops shine on my palm
Under the bright moonlight
Am I a destined Gatsby?
Imploring fate for true love
Witnessing marriage and bliss
In everything else but me?
The wishing brain, a portrait
Of the American dream home
My wrinkles say I'm late
Years pass and hope walks by
Will I be Eudora Welty?
Love letters with no response
Fighting for what I believe in
Yet no one believes in me?
The dreamy eyes, gazing at roses
Planning bouquets with no wedding
My purpose changes with time
I realize I might be a party of one