Oct 23, 2006 04:42
Sometimes I do wish I didn't get jealous so easily
of what others have and what I don't
like a little child pressing her fingers on the glass of a shop display,
staring at the pretty dresses inside that she couldn't own.
I had a dream last night,
a dream that I should never have had, about
someone I should never have liked.
He's the doll behind the glass display,
the doll in another girl's hands,
the doll which I could only look at.
The girl turns, and looks at me with a triumphant smile;
I really do wish that I didn't get jealous so easily.
personal,
poem