Walking down the memory lane,
Magical experiences now seem mundane
How could one person be another' s bane?
How could one person drive another insane ?
How could one, commit a crime so profane ?
the heart wrenching pain would inevitably never wane.
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Just a passing thought I put down in ink.
Experimenting with the rhyme again, I see.
YOU ARE READING
Wordalmania
Poesía#14 on 8 March 2017 Poetry, Prose. Words bled from the very soul. Musings of an occasional poetess. 'Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words. It is an abstract art, and I am, but a mere artist ' - Edgar Allan Poe ©wordalmaniac 2016
