Ja que estamos numa de poemas

Este estava no metro de nova iorque (sim, são burros mas têem poemas no metro) e nunca mais me esqueci dele, ate me saltaram as lágrimas. É do Thomas Hardy

A Broken Appointment

You did not come
And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb.
Yet less for loss of your dear presence there
Than that I thus found lacking in your make
That high compassion which can overbear
Reluctance for pure loving kindness' sake
Grieved I, when, as the hope-hour stroked its sum,
You did not come.

You love me not
And love alone can lend you loyalty;
I know and knew it. But, unto the store
Of human deeds divine in all but name,
Was it not worth a little hour or more
To add yet this: Once you, a woman, came
To soothe a time-torn man; even though it be
You love me not.