Indifferent and without regards,
I see you nothing more than a silhouette all this time.
I have spoken to you in great pretense,
You are for me, was just a mere mirage.
When autumn came, the cold crept,
the leaves left their branches, yet the sky stays dull,
I was then masquerading in that dirty game.
Then came the winter breeze,
dismantled my spirit and diffused insanity,
my heart frozen stiff, I was desperate for warmth.
Then I called unto you,
the man I treated a silhouette and a mirage,
your gentleness has warmed my heart,
it summoned summer to my winter days.
I see you now,
no longer a silhouette nor a mirage,
beyond the truthfulness that radiates
from your humble countenance,
is a love you’ve hidden for a while.
You are a wonderful man.
I long to know you more.

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