Distaste, some thing I feel I've earned from him.
Must he think so very much little of me?
For my moksha I would risk life and limb
I love him so, many friends disagree
What most I wish from this perfect person,
The chance to prove myself a worthy lover.
Alas, for 'tis my dreams' sad delusion
Rejection hurt so cruel, much like a knife,
Causing a change in action - take cover.
My last hope, prevent me taking my life
I only asked to speak but once with you,
But you denied me that single request.
And your colours were shown to me as true,
Much akin to a crow hiding in nest
YOU ARE READING
Poetry?
PoetryIdk if it even qualifies as poetry to be fairly honest. It's just me being emo, let's be real here. I might add to it every now and again. Probably won't make sense either
