I used to be the library
That tells her a little long story
Where silence is symphony
You can see inside of me
But we're both blind, folded by fun
Words can't find, all are blank spaces
Fill it with letters it weight a ton
Smiles are visible in every surface
Sitting here in the library's corner
And went to its dark side
Her goodbyes went bolder and darker
All those pretty lies, all died
Trying to skip this chapter of us
Just like times get older
And the pages will drown into dusts
Oh nevermind, just papers
I'm now finishing the story
Still, few words are gone
Endings are good, I'm happy
She's my library. I'm done.
:
Finishing a book is very typical
but finishing the story is surprisingly rare.
YOU ARE READING
TURTLES
PoetryThis is a compilation of thoughts I have created and grown over my younger youth. A bucket full of randomized downfalls flowing with a young innocent and reckless love. Interpreting life as a fabled fantasy slowly forming paths of footprints in the...
