"Love doesn't exist,"
Said the man on the bridge
"What do you mean, sir?"
Asked the girl from Aldridge.
"You'll realise it one day,"
Said he, who stood beside the rail.
"But love does exist,"
Said the girl whose skin was pale.
"What ya got there, sir?"
Asked the girl with a ponytail.
"Flowers for her,"
Said the man who never failed.
"But why didn't you give it?"
"Because she had another."
"So you're the man of defeat?"
"I suppose I am, rather."
"Do you like her?"
Asked the girl who walked to him.
"No, I love her."
Replied the man whose eyes went dim.
"If you love her, then get her."
Said the girl who walked closer.
"Do you think I could?"
Asked the man who wore a shroud.
"Nothing's impossible for a man who perseveres."
"Who are you to say that?"
Asked he, who just went sad.
"I'm the girl who asks you to forgive."
"Elisabeth, is that you?"
Asked he, who felt surprised.
"I'm sorry. I should have had trusted you."
Said the girl who cried beside.
"No, no. It's alright. You're safe here."
And then she asked, "Will you forgive me?"
"Of course I will forgive thee."
And there he hugged her, his dearest dear.
YOU ARE READING
The Art Of Being Random
PuisiA collection of poems I wrote that may sound weird. Be wary. They're definitely random. || I DO NOT own any of the IMAGES (except the cover) included here (but the poems came from my mind.) ||
