Everyone leaves
Eventually
And all that remains
is the memory
Shattered into a hundred tiny pieces
Scattered in the brain
Like photos in a box
One above the other
Not organized
And most certainly not alive.
It's not a very good of a comparison
But it's still true
Because I've met so many people in my life
And from them, only remains a few.
Some showed themselves the door
And went on with their lives
And for some, the waves washed up their shores
Gone with the wind
With the ocean
And all that's left are tears
Screams
Sighs
And a 'do not disturb' sign on the knob of the door.
YOU ARE READING
The Good and The Bad: a Poetry Collection
PoetryThis is my first poetry collection ever! Please check it out and don't forget to vote on the chapters you like!!
