In these nightly cold,
With no hand to hold,
Wearing sweater bigger than a coat,
Feeling the cold deep down in my bones,
I grew old with holding the memories which never can be.
Which are forever pure,
And indeed some cure.
When this dead heart feel sore,
Its your reminiscence that brings it joy,
Just like an old playing with toys.
Yet,
I can't regret my choice,
Choice,
Which I loved forever but never had a chance to call mine,
still some memories, never make me cry,
they never lie.
The memories which are blended with my soul,
Which thrills this bag of bones,
Blaze through this torso,
What can I ask for more?
YOU ARE READING
Me Myself and SHE
Poetry" Feel Someone, Heal someone, let your soul gleam someone let your words reveal someone." ~Tauseeq
