If unrequited love became
A love profound and true,
How bitter would one’s life become
How mournful, empty, blue.
Without love unattainable
No piercing pain complete
Would fuel the pen for poetry
And make the words accrete.
For love can be a thorny path
Walked barefoot in the gloom
And when we fall and break our heart
A poem helps heal the wound.
Fugitive Fragments 