A Girl Still Dreams

I cradle a love the world mustn’t see,
Tucked in the hush of what might never be.
He walks with another, hand in her hand,
While I trace forever in shifting sand.

By day I smile, I laugh, I play—
But night steals the armor I wear in the day.
His voice, like a whisper carved into stone,
Feels like home… though I’m not his own.

I’ve danced in the silence between the lines,
Kissed him in shadows where no light shines.
Years have passed like a soft-spoken hymn,
Each moment with him—my heart on a whim.

I know what is right, I know what is true,
Yet love doesn’t always ask permission to bloom.
It bloomed like spring through winter’s deceit,
Even knowing it wouldn’t be mine to keep.

I’ve been the secret, the pause in his song,
Still, I’ve held on—perhaps too long.
Not out of weakness, not for the thrill,
But because something in me believes he will…

Maybe one day—when stars realign,
He’ll look at me not as borrowed, but mine.
'Til then I wait in quiet esteem,
Faithful to love…
And the girl who still dreams.

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