Teen Missing You Poem

Poem About Love That Can Never Be

Hello! My name is Erica, and I'm a thirteen-year-old who has secretly been writing poetry since fourth grade. This is about how I am deeply passionate about someone I will never even meet, and if you have read any other poems you will know that I mention Finland a lot, because that is where he is from. This one is about how I love him so much that sometimes I can't even sleep. It's hard to love someone you can't have. I hope you like my poem "In The Longing for a Dream."

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In The Longing For A Dream

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Published: December 2017

It's four o' clock in Finland,
And I know that you're asleep.
I know that you are dreaming, and
If you're not, you're counting sheep.

I always get what I'm wanting
But never what I seek.
There's a difference between what we can have
And we can keep.

I turn to my left side
Then I turn onto my right.
I wonder if you're struggling
Like I do every night.

I close my eyes and picture you the
Way I want you to seem.
A tear comes sliding down my face
In the longing for a dream.

It lays its weary head down on my
Pillow's fraying seam.
It lays its weary head down
In the longing for a dream.

I can picture you so clearly
Sleeping soundly in your bed.
The crickets lullaby you softly as
The moon slides overhead.

The breeze knocks on your window
While in your sleep you're gently breathing,
And beneath your warm blankets
Your lovely heart is gently beating.

You nod your head slightly
And soon again you're lying still.
The night cradles you in loving arms,
And you know it always will.

Yes, it's four o' clock in Finland, and I
Know that you're asleep.
Don't know what about, but you're dreaming,
And if you're not, you're counting sheep.

Keep dreaming while you can, my love. Stay
Safe and warm within your bed
For life is but another dream. Just
Not inside your head...

I close my eyes and think of you.
Maybe it's not as late as it seems.
A tear comes sliding down my face
In the longing for a dream.

It lays its weary head down on my
Pillow's fraying seam.
It lays its weary head down

In the longing for a dream...

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