A Blank Fool.

In the midst of trials & trouble,
Why does my mind think of you?
So near yet so far,
Is all my mind can conjure up.

I miss you more each day,
But yet will I ever say it?
Who knows.
Who knows.

I told myself it will not be so,
But here I am.
Doing the very thing I will not.
Who is this fooling?

What could this fool,
That appearances could deceive.
Of no-one,
Not least my heart.

Lord, forgive me,
For my heart is yet but tender.
I'm but a wee wench,
With a heart so full to give.