I hope this is my last poetry, I don't wanna make these thingies anymore. Quite simple, this is...no explanation needed. Their pictures can't brush away reality, nor are my soliloquies heard by them. Together they were, beautiful in the past, but now are the scars that remain. Who do you cry for? Why do you weep? They dont need you anymore, your promises you never keep. Take away their pictures, their memories I dont need. Nor their sympathy, support, or emotion, its my life, and now I'll lead. Together they were, beautiful in the past, but now they pain like gangrene. So saw them away, amputate them, it pains, though you've never seen. They spread from your heart, to your brain, taking control. Into your eyes, and spill out, and down your cheeks they just roll. But they won't wipe your tears anymore, so stand up and walk past by. They live their own happy life now, and you could give yourself another try.
y do u wanna stop writin poetry...!!!!!!!!!!!!! trust me its like hell..i tried once..to stop..one wrd for it..its frustratin...nothing to let ur emotions out...plz dun stop..i lov ur poems..!
well...it matters to me, if the person i've written it for is reading or not. And i knw the truth. Poetry brought us together, and it associates wih it millions of memories i won't be able to forget ever. Probably I don't want to. But it pains. Thanks, for liking my poems..
