Brighter than the street lights' illumination
A mere reflection of the true creation
Love of night showered with appreciation
But who was she to be showed such affection?
Greatness she had was a mere imitation
Love she bequeath—she bequeathed with caution
Decisions she made always lacked conviction
Nights and days bring and leave her in confusion
A web of stars that blanket the eventide
Gleaming clouds for when endless battles subside
Misery ends with a gentle suicide
To my friend, my despondency I confide.
YOU ARE READING
Poems by an Idiot
ŞiirA collection of my poems. P.s. I'm still a noob, so any constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated:)
