I do not recall whom I wrote this poem about.

Poor shadows hold up these veins
As piercing light proclaims my shame
Begging myself to overcome
My distressed mind became undone

Pure desire in thoughts of mine
Simply hoping our eyes crossed by
Loathing myself, I somehow missed
A tenderness within those lips

I felt your smile kept me breathing
For each moment with you laughing
Numb perhaps could only explain
The feeling I presently restrained

If this plume could stab the pain
And let it run ’til ink had drained
I could lay within this bed
Hoping life could only shed