It seems I can’t do enough.
To help you ease the pain.
Love’s pillow, I try to fluff,
even if it means I have to strain.

You shut me out like the cold.
And it’s your warmth I crave.
Your kind of love, isn’t sold,
and about your beauty, they rave.

Your afraid to give in.
Accustomed to crying alone.
A painful realm to live in.
Like a quarantined zone.

I reach for your face.
And brush beneath an eye.
It’s the saddest thing I’ve faced.
Like seeing an Angel cry…