The end of the world nears,
Let's go for a swim,
In the river of tears,
That flow at your whim.
Lost in the chambers of your mind,
That not even you can find,
The corpses of your dead feelings,
Stare blankly at the ceiling,
That's about to crumble,
Try not to stumble
And fall into that pit of despair.
I'll be waiting for you there,
On the beach of ashes,
Of the dead past you buried.
I'll pretend that I'm not worried,
About you.
Your tears rain down like monsoon,
Poignant peacocks dance to it's tune,
Will Christmas ever come in June?
Will you ever dance with the moon?
Are you real or are you a cartoon?
Are you a curse or are you a boon?
I guess you will find out soon,
On the beach of ashes,
Of the dead past you buried,
With your last disposable spoon.
YOU ARE READING
The Adventures We Never Had
PoetryLadies, gentleman and others, I coyly present to you my collection of poignant poems that sometimes fail to be even that. These poems will be unlike any other poems you've had the pleasure of reading, but then again, that can be said of every other...
