It's not because I am.
It's not because my heart is teeming with love and affection
That I might as well share with you,
It's not because the fantasies my eyes have seen
Had finally come true,
It's not because my feet had carried me along with the wind
And brought me to places I've never known,
It's not because my hands have held the moon and the stars
And just like them, I shone,
It's not because my lips have spoken brilliant words
That poets, upon reading, were filled with jealousy,
It's not because my soul resembled that of an Amaranth
That everyone would be pleased to see
It's because I'm not.
It's because my heart is just as hollow as the black hole
This world would soon become,
It's because the brilliant flicker in my eyes
Was a mere reflection of where I came from,
It's because my feet are now tired and worn
From finding my place in this world,
It's because my hands are now filled with blisters
From writing thoughts I just can't put into words,
It's because my lips have told crimson lies
The reason why it bleeds,
It's because my soul have turned into a monster
That now, I find hard to feed
Poetry was never a place
To leave a penny for my thoughts,
It is however the pretty lie
Of everything I'm not
YOU ARE READING
Paper & Ink |#Wattys2016|
Şiir"I am the black on white; the ink on paper." A collection of my nightly thoughts and daydreams. Highest rank: #5 in Poetry. Please enjoy reading and find a friend in one of my works. :)
