Struggling within cells, each brazen bar your heart,
Fading from who you used to be, docile from the start,
Attempting to never be forgotten, a void attempt in vain,
Those you thought that really knew you, never knew your pain,
For now your eyes are a fragile fabulist, hiding from the truth,
You thought you were to be remembered, yet, you never left your youth,
A semblance of a memory, like paper diminished to dust,
Try to survive this world alone, feign friendship if you must,
Dwelling within a pragmatic mind, lies a single fact,
Forgiveness to you can never be real, faking it is a tact,
Vengeance is an element of bravery, your petty-minded conception,
Once we die and equate to nothing, you'll realise this deception,
hung upon a certain rope, not moving, like retribution to crime,
Forgetting that forgiveness could be a virtue, if only there was time.
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I want this poem to be deep enough for a coffin to be buried in.
Post Scriptum: The 'hung upon a certain rope' was referring to the Victorian way of punishing, hanging.
Anyways, I hope you like it :)
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Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
