Plethora [Of Poetry]

23

moon.

there was once when i left a letter on my roof
it was adressed to the moon.
i had hidden all my dreams and findings in your heart
and i left a piece of me as i left a burning flame on the rooftop.

just like the cold ashes left of my heart
the blue moon shines it's rays on me
when i kneel down on the sidewalks of the seas
knees grinding against the hard rocks of sand.

i keep telling myself, i'd write the best line today.
i keep promising myself, i'd let go today.
i keep saying again and again, i'd pen everything down today.
but even if i'd written everything that's crossed my heart, one day i'd be at a loss for words.

the clackering music of my pen falling from my hand,
the swish of the notebook sliding off the roof.
slowly i raise my head up to the same moon many have looked at
and i close my eyes.

"just like the moon, we all have our dark sides."