07-25-2001 What's Never Been The gentle caress of ones fine fingers Brush silently through my hair. A tender whisper of emotion and love As if asking why I've come there. I have seen such love yet haven't had once, An initial display of mutual trust, Perhaps the feelings within this soul Are but a disease, a killer, a secret lust. Friends and their love lightens my heart, But I cannot stand aside within its bliss. It reminds me, that I myself never posessed, Not even a hand-hold, snuggle, or kiss. A love I see between so many lives, Desire to once feel what's others have felt, Bringing forth all within me that's lacking, The cruel absence causes my heart to melt.