she will not give me her heart

she will not give me her heart

as we grow much further apart in age distance and time
the pages of letters curl brown and the inks fade away
she will not give me her heart nor will she accept mine
poems written lose their sound all is pathetic on display
photographs shrunken and stark wither in their albums
life which was once vividly alive become cold and dank
she will not give me her heart nor can she hear the hum
of my thoughts in stupidity although this mind is blank
as the strings that held us depart and grow more frayed
separation becomes the easier choice a far greater space
she will not give me her heart nor watch the game played
in a mind sickened and queasier ready to give up the race
she will not give me her heart nor to respond to my pleas
she will not give me her heart nor soften the blows of ease