I’m finding it hard to explain
The way I feel inside.
The constant hurt and aching pain
Impossible to hide.
I said that if she was happy,
Then I’d be happy too,
But way back then I could not see
How my prayer would come true.
A teary face and broken heart
Was more than I could take.
I couldn’t bear to be apart,
I couldn’t be a fake.
I put my arm around her neck,
She started then to cry.
She was the one who was a wreck,
Although I felt I’d die.
To see that she was hurt so bad,
I couldn’t do a thing.
That is the thing that made me sad,
So sad I could not sing.
And then when I saw her get hurt,
Inside I felt real sick,
Later she made me feel like dirt,
And that made me feel thick.
Each single time I open up,
And let her know I’m there,
She makes me feel as if I’m not,
As if she doesn’t care.
I guess the thing that hurts me most,
Is that I love her still,
And I pray to heavenly host,
That I always will.
I know she doesn’t care for me,
The way for her I do,
As long as she can be happy,
I pray that I’m not blue.

By Lloyd McLean (1994)

This poem is part of the Seasons of Emotion collection