By A.N. Flores
You stand there and point;
You're always good at that.
You see holes in the star filled sky.
You see sand in the clear blue sea.
You sit back and shout;
You're honest in that.
You see spots in the sparkling glass.
You see dirt in the middle of clean.
You go away and come back;
You're impulsive like that.
You see dreams you're unable to chase.
You see me holding back those dreams.
I stay here and wait;
I'm dependable like that.
You don't see my aching heart.
You don't see the hurt in me.