Turn the picture black.
We crumble into nothingness,
As a tear Slides slowly down my face.
The edges curl up.
And the flame dies.
I can't help these tears I cry.
It wouldn't hurt so much to move on.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryDon't fall into the trap of believing everything is alright when you know it isn't
The Picture
Turn the picture black.
We crumble into nothingness,
As a tear Slides slowly down my face.
The edges curl up.
And the flame dies.
I can't help these tears I cry.
It wouldn't hurt so much to move on.