Words left [unsaid]

by Anonymous

You say I can ask you anything,
But not this: If love does not envy,
Why do I? I ask though I know 
The answer. Your love is not meant for

A lesser love, worthy of heaven but not earth,
Heaven, where I’ll be made perfect,
Cleansed of my sins, of the shards
Of the home I would have 

You look at her like she’s the sun,
But I am only looking for one thing
I cannot look upon her radiant smile,
Because I search her left hand for a 

I can be but for a lonely hour,
A welcome intruder in your home,
‘Till the silence becomes heavy with 
Words left unsaid. And then I write this

There’s no priest behind the curtain,
So voiceless I must confess,
Fleeting lines of verse, a single chance
to say what I never will: Don’t say

The Poor Print

Established in 2013, The Poor Print is the student-run newspaper of Oriel College, Oxford, written by members of the JCR, MCR, SCR and staff. New issues are published fortnightly during term. Our current Executive Editors are Siddiq Islam and Jerric Chong.

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