While waiting for a callback, thought I would post a poem by Fernando Pessoa.
There's no one who loves me.
Hold on, yes there is;
But it's hard to feel certain
About what you don't believe in.
It isn't out of disbelief
That I don't believe, for I know
I'm well liked. It's my nature
Not to believe, and not to change.
There's no one who loves me.
For this poem to exist
I have no choice
But to suffer this grief.
How sad not to be loved!
My poor, forlorn heart!
Et cetera, and that's the end
Of this poem I thought up.
What I feel is another matter...
December 25, 1930
From A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe, Selected Poems of Fernando Pessoa
There's no one who loves me.
Hold on, yes there is;
But it's hard to feel certain
About what you don't believe in.
It isn't out of disbelief
That I don't believe, for I know
I'm well liked. It's my nature
Not to believe, and not to change.
There's no one who loves me.
For this poem to exist
I have no choice
But to suffer this grief.
How sad not to be loved!
My poor, forlorn heart!
Et cetera, and that's the end
Of this poem I thought up.
What I feel is another matter...
December 25, 1930
From A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe, Selected Poems of Fernando Pessoa
I, for one, Love Her!
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