I have now fathomed the great fondness
I felt for you,
It was the beauty of your soul that I have seen
through those delicate luscious green eyes
that glowed and captivated me.
Sorrowfully, I can tell
It was not my soul you desire,
not my dark brown boring sad eyes.
You don't want me and that is fine,
I'd rather look at you from afar
than have your little to nothing affection
just to consider you mine.
When the darkness covers the earth, I remain awake.
The pouring chilling rain along with the feelings I could no longer take.
When the moonlight shines for the lonesome to conversate.
When the stars are the witness of the tears I form as a lake.
How desperate my soul can be?
Mending the pieces of a broken me,
hiding behind false facade,
marred by the one whom I had.
Late night poetry
If you're not willing to
reciprocate the type of love
I have to offer,
do not attempt to make me
feel as if I'm doing something
wrong by loving you right.
Sharing Jeanty's poem! Not mine! :) Check him out on facebook he's a great poet!
I've been writing for as long as I could remember,
my hand have never felt weary,
pen's have never run out of ink,
but it seems that my heart's turning cold slowly,
with each stroke and curve it starts to shrink.
How could I write when all I feel is numbness?
When every single part of me is a complete mess?
I would never lift my pen if I don't mean it,
I would never disrespect poetry like that.
So tomorrow, I've decided to write my last piece,
and I don't think I'd probably miss,
for when tomorrow comes I'll read this afresh.
I was not confident to write a poem before,
being bothered by my grammatical errors,
but still, I never ceased to write,
considering my fervent love for poetry,
has taught my emotions to be free as it could be.
Poetry free confidence
if I were
I will be