I think I'm sad when I created this poem. I'm telling you now, I really forgot why I created this, but I think I have three choices: out of boredom, out of depression, or out of change.
LVII
SENTIMENT
Every day is gone
Away to the thought
I always had none
No one to talk to
About other things
That I expected
No one to bother
To give attention
About my actions
No one to hear from
Words that encourage
My fragile spirit
No one to listen
To all my phrases
That I always say
No one to feel
Compassion or love
About a broken heart
No one to bond
A lasting friendship
Upon trust and faith
No one to care
About a bleeding cut
Struck upon my wrist
No one to cry for
To stone-frozen souls
Begging for mercy
No one to lean on
Times of depression
And mental sickness
No one comprehends
The ruins of life
Washed away by tears
No one understands
The trickle of blood
Running hot and cold
No one appreciates
Gold from a pure heart
That neglects errors
No one to confess
A secret of pain
For a whole lifetime
No one to rescue
Not one finger found
On my memory
No one to pair with
A sole wanderer
In barren deserts
No one to love
For the light had died
On the way to life
No one to die
For the hour has past
Even before the start
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Poems
PoetryThese poems are just some of the little pieces that make up my life. Whenever I get inspired by someone or something, I write a little story about it in the form of a poem. In a way, it helps me express what I have in my mind in a very vague way. I'...
