Colors of pain

"Without"

As I try to start writing again
A tear fell down from my eyes
And thought to myself
It's funny
It's funny how laughters can turn into tears
Love can turn into hatred
And my sweet dreams turn into nightmares
Making me...
Making me unable to write again
Making me a poet without his poems
Because.... bacause my favorite subject
Found his favorite person
And that was....
Not me
The person in my dreams
who was laughing with him
The person in his dreams
And the person who I assume to be with him in my poems
Was not me
It was all of my delusions after all
While crying I tried to write to again
And realized that I cant never write again
Because a poet without his subject
Is as the same as a poet without his poems