The castle we've built
together crumbled down,
one melancholic night.
Our souls were slowly
drifting apart where yours
was drunk with doubts.
The garden we made
was once filled with love,
but now teemed with thorns.
Your sweet greetings
of affection every morning
became bitter and bland.
And I've asked you why,
but you just told me—
I got tired and now it's gone.
You should've told me
the moment it's gone so that
I could've prepared, I replied.
YOU ARE READING
Blued Lines
PoetryTo those whose heart has been ripped apart, you're not alone in the boat. If you think that poets write wonderful lines and echoing endings, then you got it wrong because we also get broken and as you read each poem, the sadder and painful it become...
