My Poetry
without you, my poetry is
dead, leaving a crack of sadness;
and for this I just may stop,
‘cos the spirits are untreatable;
i hurt my mind…
and shattered my sanity;
better if we have not met, you thought;
i agreed, for you delved too much at the vanity;
and thru the pieces that I may have
or, may have not given;
and thru the songs that I may have
or, may have not written;
and I think, maybe I should reconsider
picking-up the thread of my life, for good grace is
my heart lasting desire; to start again
as if it were sunrise, perhaps, I find
a sweet butterfly, however this may seem
hope is keeping me alive; unto you
eternal peace and joy, I wish
even thru my deepest sorrow.
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