Unsure feeling, internal stuttering,
I walk down a path of fallen leaves,
Few remain now on the pale trees,
Struggling, still confident they'll make it,
But they won't.
Winter doesn't like to leave survivors.
I'm wandering meaninglessly,
I don't know where to go,
Following the tugging desperateness of my heart,
Through the light haze of the morning,
Breath clouding before me.
Looking for something but simultaneously,
Wandering what I'm looking for,
I wait for that sensation to remind me that I've made it.
The trees surround me,
The leaves keep dying,
And the only thing I can do is grow colder,
It's unbearable,
My feet make hollow noises on the soft ground.
I can't get out,
I'll never find what I'm looking for,
I'll die just like those grey leaves,
Illuded.
YOU ARE READING
Old Love
PoesiaA love story left unfinished, where hearts lay strained and emotions run strung. A book containing poems on the meaning of unrequited love, of broken hearts and of tears cried bitterly waiting for that someone to show themselves knowing they never w...
