When I'm sad
I go to watch the landscapes
Where we once walked.
Do I need to stay
So to fix the mistakes?
Or have we lost it all?You know
I was different with you.
But something has changed.
This world
Tried too hard to rescue
Us from this game.I guess
We could've been better
In understanding ourselves.
Alas,
We didn't care.
And it's too late to regret.
YOU ARE READING
Through the pain
PoetryForgotten notes of burnt pages. Image copyright belongs to Miroslav Boskov