The Barren Heart

It’s one of those things you instinctively know,

That the other is more important than you,

Without the other the heart is barren land,

On which the only rain that falls is of teardrops,

There is laughter,

But it comes from the nearby fields,

Lush with crop,

Plush with hope,

The parched land knows of no such things…

No, the barren heart I do not want,

I long to live, to love, to yield,

To laugh, to sing,

Around the other I build my dreams,

Always have and always will.