From the Grave

I could have been

The best thing to

Happen to you, yet

You threw me away.

And when I tried to love

You, you ran away from

Me, so maybe we weren't

Ever really meant to be.

Yet my heart calls

To you, and my soul

Weeps for you, a manmade,

Perfect desirable dream.

But I am cold, as

Ice, and have been

Forgotten by one and

All who ever loved me.

** The Great Gatsby isn't mine, it's F. Scott Fitzgerald's. **