Maybe
and perhaps he was a blithesome I don't know him now cause perchance he turned sulky . . and maybe he loved her in another life where there was no measurement of time maybe in space with no pars , with no pars he chased his moon in the dusk dawn and noon . . and maybe on his way to moon, he lost many clouds and birds , many warns and morns he lost for the passion to have her he never wanted it to frost . . and maybe he was belittled the way he was portrayed, but his excruciating love memoir wasn't a masquerade . now he doesn't say much at all, maybe no one was there when he used to bawl . . and maybe somewhere on the other side he found her or maybe she has always been in his subconscious, nudging him this way and dragging him that way until some way or the other he found her . . and maybe he doesn't know, but he does know he has felt her more ...