I'm wrecked
A mess full of
Emptiness.
It's flooding out,
And somehow it hurts.
Wasn't it supposed to be some kind of
Relief, beauty ?
And the same tune keeps playing
Behind the mess of thoughts.
Ain't youth meant to be
Beautiful ?
The world is wrecked,
Or at least I hope so.
'cause then
I would not be a mess
Alone
VOUS LISEZ
Mono no aware
PoetryLa tristesse des choses. C'est beau, c'est aigre-doux. C'est un joli nom pour des poèmes, non ?
