I wish that I knew more than I do
About the things that go on in your head
I beg and I pray for what it takes
To scream out what I want to say
You are a matrix, your thoughts the code
Which I lack the encryption key to
If only you read all that I wrote —
You would understand, wouldn't you?
Even if your cipher is something I neither
Decrypt nor take as my own
At least to your eyes I can surprise
You with the truth of my code
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Poetry"Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility." - William Wordsworth
