It wasn't a ‘if they could’
Or ‘everything one should.’
It could always be something misunderstood
And kept and left right here for good.
Because neither could be who they wanted one another to be,
It's clear to see.
They won't ever be able to stand close enough to see the other side,
It's something neither could be able to recognize.
'Are we getting anywhere?'
All one could do was watch- stare and cry.
Yes, we finally did.
All along, that was it.
There was love.
There was trust.
They was everything
We could think of.
It's not you.
It's not me.
I finally found freedom in those hopeless words:
It just is.
YOU ARE READING
Last Year's Flowers
PoetryIn the third installment, Last Year's Flowers, MissReads19's poetry takes on a new shape through storytelling. Crafted from fragments of poems written through time, Last Year's Flowers takes the reader on a fictionalized journey of love from beginni...
