⊶⊰ ⊱⊷
When every morning feels like a magnet;
Dragging me to nowhere but him
My lonesome days; he stole like a bandit
He would nigh near at every glorious brim
I've written not once, not thrice
Dearest lad, it's like I'm in a wondrous loop
That day — that precious day I was enticed
'Twas when my heart began to act like a stupe
No one has ever given me the best
Until you spoke to me through words in a poem
Since then, I have surrendered the rest
And relied on fate whichever led solemn
Dearest lad, my true solace
Every place is now a rendezvous
The arcade I whined, the streets you laughed
With you, I become quite valorous
I have marked those days unmatched
Your silent singing, those sneaky stares
To admire you means remain untouched
So wait for me below the stairs
It may take long until light years;
I may drive you insane amidst the rain
But you have owned all my drears
Dearest solace, shelter us from pain
⊶⊰ ⊱⊷
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Diary
PoetryShe doesn't simply cry when she's upset or disappointed, nor does she just smile all day when she finally get to grab that tiny bit of hope. It would be hard for her to talk about love just as simply as bringing up a favorite song, nor would it be e...
