I'm tired of falling in love
This tingly feelings of
Butterflies in my mind
As the air I breathe hitches
When I see your pretty smile
To hear your lovely laugh
Your hand to hold in mine
This warmth to fill my heart

I'm tired of falling in love
Apologising all the time
Because I cannot make it all right
Thinking of the someday
When I will break my stupid heart
Exhausted of wanting more
To show you I work hard
To keep our love alive

I don't want it all, help me up
To stand from this ground
That gripped my feet to stuck
Telling me I'm grounded
But I should not move apart
From the mistakes and the failures
And wrong things in my past
That will lead me to a future
Full of bleeding and of scars

I'm tired of falling in love.

It was not real, an illusion

Hiding from beneath
The threshold of those
Lies that you told
To make me believe
The person whom I'm talking
Is a hero of the olds

Your kindness was bitter
Spiteful, but bold
It lacked so much leeway
For comfort and soul
Believed in being the freedom
When it was tethers of cold

As time passed by
It ran out of fillers
To conceal it's grimes
From words that I uttered
Consoling such ruse
I stepped on it, yearning

With my truth and yet you

Your deception was forgiven
Only in your mind
All this time I have driven
The wheels you brought out
Unknowing, insane is brethren
With your impurities of time

I was drenched in color orange
lightening hue of the sun
beneath the shadow of music
where the violin string unclasped
the rhythm of their wailing
into one beautiful lyre

an angel feather fallen
because God forbidden me
from chasing axes with mixes
of hate and despair that run
the smiles from their faces
then made it into innocence gone

the forsaken forest spirits
now dwell into the grounds
made up of lilies and roses
trying to hear the sound
from my tree of despair, oozing
with my arrogance and my lies

BY ROBERT FROST

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night