Poetry

O'er there

O'er there,

I can't be bothered to form the words,

I struggle to move my muscles,

She comes to me in my sleep,

Emerging from the foam,

Casually watching waiting windy window,

The memories would collide,

Although I may not be stuck on them now,

They still appear in my mind quite frequently,

But not with any anguished disdain,

But rather appear as an echoey refrain,

of who what why when could be,

of the three and me,

Who would I be with them still?

Sometimes it haunts me,

Would they be the same,

If they knew I knew there's no

winning this thing because there's

no game,

Why would they even bother to care 

about me now?

There's no reason for them to stay,

But I'd still care and believe that even here,

in this spot there would be

love,

And not only that, but love for me,

Shared and passed around, not one

by one, but collectively all at once,

The sun sharing it's value to the sphere's that

praise him,

Let me not do anything more that would 

not save them,

For I know that I know that I care,

And for now that's how I will bear.