Spring lost the flowers
Night rejected the moon,
And erased the stars.
Beach without sea,
And out of tun opera.
The only certainty,
It that in my memories
My mind will use a watercolor.
To paint the colors that those moments
Never had.
To deceive me,
To let me think with me heart
To again fall into the web
And be a spiders prey.
They called me by names,
I smiled when they said them.
Who would presume?
Who would've thought?
That so much bitterness those names cause me these days.
There's no poetry,
There are no twists,
There's no future point beyond now.
There's no life behind our promises
There's no sin or crime,
Worth commiting for us.
There's no love,
So there's no pain, right?
It's only just a lust-filled,
Heart-wrenching,
Colorless romance.
YOU ARE READING
Poems.
PoesíaThis is mostly my poetry but some are not. My poetry is pure trash, but hope my random writing entertains you.
