Name of the game

Your love swings with your mood,
sometimes cold, sometimes warm.
Anyway you are nice and good,
and you don't cause me any harm.
But sometimes I am all confused,
to be accepted only to be refused.

All by myself here I stand,
and it doesn't hurt at all.
I am not holding your hand,
nor waiting for your call.
Recollecting the words you spoke,
remembering the promises you broke.

Your thoughts filled me with smiles,
in some of my most gloomiest days.
When darkness stretched over miles,
they've brightened up all my ways.
For you this all could be a game,
but your game gave me my name.

Poetry List