There's this curse, this fluctuating emotion
I don't know its name, i can't tell its notion
It makes me hopeful, then leaves me hateful
While struggling to break myself free from its pull
There's no room for it - this i already know
And even if i told you - Oh, such unrealistic sorrow! -
There's no sense in stepping into somewhere
I can't make myself go
There's no chance on the table
But even if there was
I'm just not able
No need to share my flaws
So if i'm bound... to suffer anyways
I'll do so in silence while counting the days
YOU ARE READING
Blue Poems
PoetryYou're either sad already or you will become sad from reading this. Trying to write hard and clear about what hurts, cause that is what art is all about.
