I cried my eyes out
When I got my heart ripped out
All I ever wanted was to head south
Stick my head out
Just to find out
How did "he" get out?
To late I guess,
because I died on the day that I was born
Whom am I then?
I don't know
But I know whom she would've wanted me to become:
A dreamer
A lover whom believes that
being in love is to follow footsteps on the shoreline of the sea
Whom believes that love is a baggage you cannot see,
a turmoil of wild emotions stacked in a cristal jar
Whom believes that being in love is to see with both eyes closed
Being in love is to miss someone you've never met,
have flashbacks of a lifetime you haven't lived yet
Love is a blissfull "tiny pit" of heaven in a soul pure enough to dig it.
Love is undeniable
Love is the beginning of the end that starts when one ends.
YOU ARE READING
Roses of Sharon
PoetryHow should one begin to introduce such a collection of riddled poems? Well,read following thoughts "painted in words" are cries, ideologies that demanded to be shared. Each unique in it's own way. Some a tainted with sorrows and wonders,some...
