For all my mundane striving,
I am ungraced from above.
Despite all my achievements,
I am valueless, save for love.
As in the confines of my dreams,
How I long to touch her deeply.
I’ve always looked forward to grace;
Now I peer back questioningly.
Even as I count my blessings,
One is conspicuously absent.
Although I wish it were so,
Love’s mystery is without a hint.
A parchment diploma is just a thing;
My fulfilling job is only half of the goal;
Connecting with a partner is missing,
My half is looking to constitute a whole.
In spite of my searching far and wide,
The comfort of love eludes me.
The cello playing within my heart
Sounds woeful and melancholy.
I will, at the current rate,
Die a lonely and heartbroken fellow.
Though I have won accolades,
My golden trophies are more like yellow.
Here is another poem you might also like: “A Towering Mountain My Heart Must Climb”
“My Golden Trophies are More Like Yellow” © Jason Merchey 1999-2018