6 result(s) for Love Poems About A Love I Cannot Win.
These poems are completely original - not copied from anywhere. Feel free to use them however you want.
Wilted Roses
I brought you roses, red and bold,
To say the words I could not hold.
But every petal, one by one,
Fell silent when my heart was done.
I spoke my truth beneath the moon,
A whispered hope, a fragile tune.
You smiled politely, turned away,
And left my confession to decay.
Now roses wilt upon the stone,
Where all my courage lay alone.
Each faded bloom, a quiet grief,
A garden of a love without relief.
Yet still I tend this wounded flower,
And guard the hope of one more hour.
For love that cannot win may bloom,
In silence, shadow, and in gloom.
The Cage I Built
I laid the bars one gentle word at a time,
With laughter, late-night talks, and shared bread and wine.
I called it friendship, and I called it safe,
A room with no door where my heart could chafe.
You hold the key without knowing it's there,
You smile across the table, unaware
That every warm embrace becomes a bar,
That I am caged by the nearest star.
I could have spoken, could have dared to say,
But I chose the quiet, the easy way.
Now I stand inside what I made with care,
Loving you fully, and nowhere to go from there.
Unclaimed Light
I learned your laugh the way the tide learns sand,
returning every evening, never once to stay.
I kept my hope folded small inside my hand,
though I knew the shore was never mine to take away.
You wore your heart like a window at dusk,
lit for someone who was already home.
I stood outside, a moth that trusted only dusk,
and wings still raised toward a flame I could not own.
Some hearts were never meant to be mine,
like stars that shine on lands they never reach.
I'll keep the warmth you gave in quiet time,
and let the rest of you become a sky I'll never breach.
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The Lantern I Carry
I carry you the way a lantern carries flame,
warm against my chest, though none can see the light.
You walk the road ahead, unaware of the glow
that follows your footsteps through the night.
I do not ask the dark to yield, nor you to turn,
for love that burns for one need not be fed by two.
I hold it gently, knowing its brightness is my own,
and that some fires are kindled only to be true.
So let the loneliness be the wick that keeps it lit,
the quiet weight I learn to bear with open hands.
It is a beautiful burden, heavy but mine,
and I would rather hold this light than walk without its strands.
Unanswered Rooms
I speak to you in rooms no one can hear,
where every word I hold is turned to air.
I spill my heart like candlelight on glass,
and watch it gutter out before it pass.
Your laughter drifts like weather through the hall,
and I, a silent witness, lose it all.
I keep the love I cannot name or give,
and learn to live on what I cannot live.
The door stays closed; the hinges never sigh.
I write your name and watch the ink run dry.
My confessions fade like breath on cold stone,
unanswered, as I learn to live alone.
And still I hope, though hope is thin and worn,
that somewhere you will hear the words I mourn.
But silence answers, patient, soft, and kind,
and leaves my love with nothing left to find.
Unsent
I wrote your name across the margin twice,
then folded every hope into the page,
and sealed it in a drawer with careful ice,
where ink and longing both grow old with age.
The stamp is sticky, the envelope is blank,
the address written, true, but never mailed;
I keep the words the way a sailor's plank
keeps watch above the water, never sailed.
You'll never read the line where I confess
that every morning I rehearse your face,
or how the silence carries more than less,
and love, unspoken, holds its quiet place.
So here these letters rest, my faithful sorrow,
unsent, unanswered, loving you tomorrow.
