Wishing it was real.

I wonder about the spark, the shine that lights your eyes,

Your gaze, so calm and fixed - peaceful in it's sight.

I wonder if you just look on, see ghosts of memories,

Or if you don't only look, but search, perhaps, for me.

I shall dream of chances like, though it's close to an ordeal,

I choose to stay in wistful thoughts, wishing it was real.