Somewhere in the middle,
I had realized my bad fate would meddle,
I would never get him to cuddle,
Our story was twisting like a puzzle.
Someway through tat time hustle,
I saw him pushing me to a puddle,
I couldn't even take a breath to struggle,
So now am leaving without a meddle.
Sometimes some words doesn't matter anymore, no matter who they swore upon when they said those words.
Chaahat
YOU ARE READING
The Darkest Shade Of Black
PoetryAbout that shade of black that's darker, deeper and stronger. About a black so mean that it scared death away. About the blackness in my heart that seeks to all the bright. About a black so overpowering that it degrades all smiles. About T...
