Surprisingly,
It was always
The broken hearts
That were sweet.
How such a
Sweet thing as love
To leave them
To rot.
Burn their soul
In its
Clutches.
But the they escape
With scars
And teary eyes,
Beaten spirits,
And loss of will.
The broken hearts
Live forever
With pangs of
Pain
In the middle
Of the night.
Small hours
Of the morning
They eat ice-cream
To freeze their
Emotions.
Smile in the mirror
When they feel
Like giving up.
And forever
Would they realise,
The sugar of themselves
And time
Will fill in the cracks
Of their heart,
Until they are ready to melt again.
YOU ARE READING
Afternoon Thoughts
PoetryHer head felt light in that moment, She felt as if was drunk on starlight, Her bare toes grazing dewy grass, Breathing in the sweet scent that was finally her.
