There were so many things I wanted to tell you,
Hundreds of words still unsaid.
I have a hard time opening up...
I guess you didn't know that yet.
I dream of you every night--
As if that matters now.
I should have told you before you left...
If I only knew how...
Now thousands of miles away,
I may never again get to see your face.
All those kisses in my dreams,
I will never get to taste.
I wonder if you feel the same;
I wonder if you, too, are shy about these things.
I guess it shall remain a mystery...
Until my heart grows wings.
©2001 Britt Hyde