Wistfulness Poem by D.A. Woods

Waiting here for the blissful days to come back around.
I miss the touch of the hand where I was found.
Electric soared from my veins.

My beautiful you has the ugly descending me.
I still climb up with hope.
Nothing here but the air I breathe.
No one around that I cared for.
For all my life I've been a fool,
Believing in futures not yet arrived and looking back at our yesterdays which have been stolen from us, never to be returned.

All my senses are attacking me with rage at the same time holding me with belongingness, love, with care.
Confusion sets in.
I am drifting out the the dark, vast sea without a mast on a boat called Heartache.

I'm letting myself set sail, nor do I want to return back.
I'm heading towards the dark.

Would you want to be held by a ghost?
Like cowboys who kiss their horses goodnight?

We all believe in a love that never dies.
What if it died at your feet?
Can you step inside a new one?
Can somebody touch mine.

No, I am not viable.

Setting sail.
Don't know if I shall ever find pastures of happiness or find or find my way back ever again.

The boat has a hole in it also, letting water through,
I am going to sink fast.

Nobody knows but me and where I want to be?
Drowned if the waters of a wasted life.