^°^°^°^
There's a distance growing between my past and present,
I am afraid, it will grow like the distance of adoration and resent.
They don't get along,
The sacredness of my present whenever touches the wilted past,
It wilts, into a past.
So the irony is, even after being consumed by each other, they still have a distance, a wide one.
The distance like the river and the ocean,
The distance like the plant and the tree,
The distance, like the poem and the song,
The distance like you and that book,
The distance which you never knew,
But it grew,
The distance which grows with time,
Leaving you wondering, oh that did happen, didn't it?
The distance between your distress and peace.
The distance which the time brings.
^°^°^°^
YOU ARE READING
LogoPhile
Poetry~•~•~•~• "And what kind of beauty should I grow to love, if not of the words; nothing has ever been so honest and at the same time so fraud than them." ~•~•~•~•~ *The collection of the poetries, are all the original works, if not mentioned otherwis...
