The Unspoken Poem
“Once upon a time,
Not so long ago.
That’s the way all stories start,
After that, well, you never know…
There always is a boy and girl,
And devils and demons too.
Sometimes there are talking animals,
Or even me and you.
Our lives are but a story,
Each day a fresh new page.
Every year becomes a chapter,
From our births right through old age.
Sometimes the story can be boring,
It can even make us cry.
But oftentimes we dance and sing,
While our dreams allow us to fly.
No one knows how the story ends,
Or even why it begins.
I guess some things are just meant to be,
But not everybody wins…
Paintings, music, written word,
They serve as our true tongue.
And yet I find myself without,
Something for which I long.
Of brightest day or darkest night,
Through storms and tempests fierce.
Never shall I turn away,
From you, whom I hold most dear.
Of course, there’s always that other question,
That often remains unsaid.
It dances tentatively around us,
And yet never leaves our heads.
At night, I often lie awake,
Looking up above.
My heart beats ever faster, painfully,
Until I cry out, “Enough!”
And so, at last, I reach ‘The End’,
Whatever – however – that may be.
The question seems quite obvious,
Will you, my love, love me?”
– Crispian Thurlborn, “The Unspoken Poem” (2008)
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