Should I close the door back again?
Should I run away like I always do?
I gave him the keys.
And the whole crew disagrees.
Saying, he's just an atrocious
and a loathsome disease.
But I can always change the lock.
Ain't that a self mock?
What now?
Should I allow?
Allow him in? Fully in?
I avow.
Feels not close
to being a mundane.
So I guess it's time
to call it for an abstain?
Getting away from the anguish
that might be heading my way.
For nothing is sure as shooting
permanent like a scar.
A scar. . .
It's such a big word.
A trauma and a scar. . .
Even bigger.
Then what?
Why am I thinking this way now,
When I should've been
since the very beginning?
Why did I think that
he's gonna stay?
When he will never.
The ajar doors of mine
threatening to close,
whenever a knock is perceived,
Is unremittingly anticipated.
Sometimes I think I might be agitated.
The scars again and again. . .
But alas, that's just what I perfect.
🍁
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Divergent Misplaced Melodies (Poems)
PoetryTaste these poems. |Highest ranking #142 in poetry, #44 in quotes| A poetry book from the soul. There's poetry and then there is this. Some are designed from my imagination, for my love of creating stories. And some are inspired from real life. I wa...
