the cycle

He loves her,
again, and again.
She might like him,
for a while, and then

she or he--whoever
it may be--
will leave, and start
the process again.

But I just look on,
observing my friends.
They do not know
the turmoil within.

For I love him,
but know this is best.
But some days, I wish
I could be like the rest.