She will never be your sunshine.
But, if you think yellow is too loud a colour to wear, may be you should try the blue she spreads on her cheeks with each drooping glance.
She will never be your sunshine.
But, if you find warmth a tad stifling, go and drown yourself in the cool, silent waters that bleed from her veins.
She will never be your sunshine.
But, if you ever come home, tired from your daily battle with the world, she will be your night: the medicine of oblivion and dreamless stupor.
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Modern Metaphysical Poems
PoesiaWhy metaphysical? Well, because I love the Metaphysical Poets from the early Elizabethan era, and given the crazy age of technology that we live in, I think now is a better moment than ever to revive the school of poetry that merged science and phil...