In Which Yes, It Does Make The Heart Grow Fonder

I'm spoilt, it's true, and have no right to long
For what is mine but is far out of reach
Just now. As I sit here within a throng
I find that I would gladly trade off each
Of them for one I choose instead: one guy.
I shouldn't sulk so that I cannot look
To one side, see a smile and catch an eye
That's sharing my amusement. Once I took
All that for granted, for a few weeks, there
In a far city; it was easy, felt
Like it had always been so. Now, I swear,
It feels sometimes like just a dream. I'm dealt
Such diff'rent hands at home, but well I know
I'm lucky to have someone I miss so.

In Which A Warning Is Whispered

Be careful, oh, if you ask for your space,
For those who really love you will accede
To your request, e'en though more than a trace
Of pain is theirs. Real love gives what you need
If it trusts in your word. So thus to me
It's happened: earnestly a plea is made,
And earnestly believed and honored, see,
Despite the private tears. And as I'm bade,
I've backed off, promised so to calmly wait,
And, waiting, tried to go about my days
With bravery, then suddenly -- too late --
I find I've lost what most I'd deeply praised.
The accusation's laid down at my door:
Desertion and indifference, the score.