What if;
sunset clouds hazed the skies at dawn,
stealing thousands of stars, throwing their timid brightness towards the moon,
and the moon cloaked itself with spring rain
while people underneath her dance in pairs.
and slowly the clock tower ran in reverse,
reviving all memories—the saddest to the happiest,
and someone poked the back of this grey shirt I wore and smiled.
before I turned back,
I realized, this was the memory I tried to reforget;
—the day we met.
YOU ARE READING
POETRY THAT STAYS
PoetryYou don't really love someone, not until they become the person behind of your poetries. When poetry speaks, it echoes through your soul, lingers in your heart, and dances in your dreams. And... it stays. I wrote poems enough for people to ask, "w...
