I Can't

I can wake you up
But I can’t make you walk,
And I can open your eyes
But I can’t make you see
Things you cannot see
I can’t force you to believe my words
Or my unspoken emotion.

I can love you
With all my heart
But you can’t return that love
Or, at least,
You can’t admit it.

I wish I could fix things
Be your handyman with a magic wand
On a white stallion
With a suit of armor
And a brown tool belt.

Of my heart, at least
You hold a piece
A piece which I cannot live without
But which may eventually,
And not without pain,
Mend itself.

My eyes water—
On the verge of tears
And my heart aches for what is
What isn’t
And what can never be

I can’t make you see
What I want you to see
And I can’t always say
Anything
You want to hear…

But I can always love you
Be by your side
A pillar in your crumbling life
Until,
From neglect,
I begin crumbling too.