A Poem
Some ppl write poems about little things, about stupid things, about ecstatic love. Some about happiness, some about loneliness, but since I met you, there is nothing to write of.
You took my hand, showed me the world, stole my heart. But things were too good to be true. Because you lied, and tore me apart.
Writing about my life now makes no sense. Without you in it, I fear again, I cry again, never to love again as I say your name in past tense.
So I guess I am left to writing poems about little things, about stupid things, about dying alone and sad. Never again about happiness, never again about you, because there is no reason for me to be glad.
I had you and everything was perfect, but you no longer want me and I am still madly in love with you.
But hey just ignore everything I wrote, because afterall it is just a poem.
A Poem
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- Clearwater Poet
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Feb 01, 2007 2:22 pm
- Location: Blenheim, Ontario, Canada
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