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I miss so many things.
I miss the warmth of a hug,
As well as the heartbeat I feel
when someone compliments me.
I miss the curl of my lips when I am happy.
I miss having friends,
Our family dinners.
I miss how people looked after me,
When I was a baby and needed a sincere care.
I miss not being in love, not tasting pain coming along with it.
I would have missed, maybe, if I knew what the colors are.
Most of all, I miss being myself.
Myself before the world shaped me according to itself
And turned me upside down.
Myself without you.
~~~~~~~~
The last one before the ending. :)
YOU ARE READING
White Memories of A Black Life
Poetry"I have never tasted the brightness of yellow, the calmness of blue, the cheer of green or the love of red. I felt something; still do I, but never related to colours. I only know the pureness of white and the mystery of black. Oh, and grey. For mos...
