Sitting on a bed, reading a book
And shedding tears that should never be took.
Thinking how stories should be true,
Perfect and sweet, with one true kiss.
Wish my story could be like theirs
Although sometimes it’s too much to bear.
They say I am young and naïve,
But that doesn’t mean its not possible for me to grieve.
I want to cry,
When people ignore my sighs
Always there and shall always stay,
In my heart and never conveyed
I feel like I’m the only one with these feelings inside,
Dying and dying, but never fully put aside.
When we were children, we would laugh and play
But things were innocent, and never grey
When I fell, I knew
That although it was new
I would never disengage.
But our hearts grow, along with our age
Why can’t it be like people say,
Sweet and new till the last day?
I guess Elizabeth and Darcy were the only ones.