yabs

In the grand pursuit 
Defined by an undying diligence 
Of efforts and true words 
All amounting to naught 

No regret for actions 
But entombed in embarrassment 
In tears that fail to flow 
In dreams that stay as so 

Long nights of smiles 
Of stories about our days 
Late afternoons filled with glee 
Before the things I failed to see 

I wished, hoped and prayed 
As few men would probably do 
My fondness for her grew 
A fondness known by few 

The years of numbness worked 
My soul will never be irked 
I smile, I laugh, I play 
I'm still an island to this day