Silence is said to be Golden, but I think it not;
Not when the words "I love you too" are sought.

Love is said to be Grand, but I say never when not returned;
For feelings of loneliness and failure begin to churn.

The heart is said to be Powerful, but I think helpless is mine;
For a true and special love has it yet to find.

Patience is said to be Virtue, but I say that can not be;
How can it be virtuous to await to see if being alone is your destiny.

So what is said and what is real seem to be completely apart;
Atleast they seem to in a Lonely Heart.