It's Sonnet Time!

He has never called me beautiful
Or held me longer than is concerning.
Accustomed to what might to some seem cruel,
His familiar distance keeps me yearning.
Speak at once my torn and battered friend;
It’s quite unnatural keeping you from song.
Those dewy suns speak truth while you defend
Flooding words your Keeper thinks are wrong.
In every touch with hands that cannot lie,
Or anxious leg that knows each step of mine;
Even ignored lips wish to reply
My call, and so I ask that you resign.
Dear Heart your loyal task has been in vain,
Know I his love, though it be not in name.