I knew this day will happen,
I think I dropped my pen
I was about to write something
Yet I think, My heart breaking
May be or not, It's a possibility
Losing my charming ability
As the sky darkens and began to pour
I stare at my paper, with my pen never tour
It might be my final goodbye
As the world I know, covered in black dye
With my pen never stroke a line
Stared a blank sheet, as it turns nine
I am struggling to see a path
No trail, no roads and even a dot
It's my first time in a year to learn
I have to start over to earn
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Life: Volume 1
PoetryCompilations of Poems written by yours truly, Martin Chua What is the feeling of storing your precious memories, in beautiful pieces of literature?
