Rain poured,
I silently died.
Along with every teardrop,
there goes every memory I had long gone trapped.
Life is colorful,
I had witnessed its unending ray of happiness.
Smiles of delight were shown by the others,
their gleeful faces showed that only love matters.
Yet little did they knew,
while they smiled,
there is this soul.
who was never happy,
not a sliver;
who wasn't even close to being whole.
Her life grew darker,
not a thing could she decipher.
Nights passed,
her heart grew cold yet bold,
she then decided to last.
There it goes her perfectly sane existence,
all for her eyes.
Never could she hold such a perfect state anymore,
she was wise.
Wise enough to know that she is beyond saving,
that her heart's menace is beyond absorbing.
Along with her tears,
was her life.
There it goes her wellness,
a gift everyone has;
She held it once,
now gone and broken,
like a sullen,
fragile piece of glass.
There it goes,
her happiness—
her life.
A boy who never looked back,
who left her heart,
a devoured, naught lonely crack.
There it goes perfectly,
never will come back her life of awe;
a gift of joy sewn temporarily raw—
Raw as the pain she held and saw.
(07/20/14)
YOU ARE READING
Never Sent (Completed)
PoetryIt was then she said: "Words fed, scathed, brought my soul together; and it would be preposterous if I'd get to feel all these sensations alone, so I am giving you a part of my suffering, a fragment of my universe, a debris of myself. Through these...
