"A stab in my chest, I'm wounded but can't bleed. There is a loneliness inside of me, accompanied by a gnawing need".- Nick
I write what I feel and sometimes I'm inspired. whatever the case these are all mine.
I love words and poetry
If there is...
The moon has an ever smiling face they say, That lights the path of darken ways Through rain, snow and clouds it shone Sitting there all alone Never once does it complains When it's outshined by the sun in the days Hidden behind buildings, branches and trees. Masked by street lights, it tired of fighting to be seen. It gets no recognition or acknowledgement. For all who sees it overlooks its achievements.
BUT
The moon accepts and move on Knowing it's been replaced for quite so long. So as it goes through each of its phases. The hurt it may have felt slowly erases.
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For the moon in its years has gotten rather wise. Learning never to cry over goodbyes And as people so easily diminish its "importance" It refrains from discordance. For what is to gain form making noise? Like I said the moon as become wise.
Back to it's corner unacknowledged and unrecognized Making itself smaller, accepting temporariness of ties.
