Outnumbered yet alone,
here where you are,
is there space for me?
Those around you seem to think not.
Maybe they wouldn’t say it, so openly,
but their actions say enough.
It’s hard to love
when there’s a possibility of your love, not being meant to be.
Is any love meant to be?
It is hard to love,
when you feel as though your love might not be enough,
but what is enough?
When is enough, enough?
Maybe the love,
I see on tv screens,
an in magazines,
is the only love.
by: Natasha Decker