If there's one thing
I want to share
from an experience
I'm afraid to tell
that is to,
Don't mend your heart,
by falling into
another heart.
For you'll just
end up
being a
devastated one.
Your love
for her
will not be
enough,
for you still try
to love
yourself.
Everything will
be a mayhem,
and she will just
end crying.
So if  you want
to spare
yourself
from this stress,
this is a
head start
for you my friend.
Trust me,
I've been there,
and
I've done that,
and
its
the worst,
that
I
got.*

(c) ForgottenDiety

The hardest
part
of
falling
in love
is,
not
knowing
if
he
feels
the same
way
you do.*

(c)ForgottenDiety

We met in a very vast space
where only zeros and ones could activate a magic portal that leads to our address.

A simple 'like' have started it all
Like a bomb that's been waiting to explode.
Like turns to comment then to chats then it turns to video calls that no one knows when would last.

It was too good to be true,
all the sweet nothings and emojis,
all the GIF and vlogs.

I know that one day we'll meet,
not just in that vast space or in our dream,
but in a place where we could touch our hands together,
Without even thinking twice.*

(c) ForgottenDiety

The days are gone for the baby, who'll be living on its own.
Her teddy will no longer be needed,
Same as her beautiful room.
She'll need to learn how to cook,
or she'll starve herself to death.
Yet there will be no one who'll take a look,
on whether or not she irons her dress.

She will enjoy the freedom and the fun of being away.
And will soon start buying things without thinking how much she pays.
She will love her dream job,
And pretends she is.
For she forgot that her heart was left,
The moment she left the east.

Soon she will feel strange, like something has been lost.
She will find it in bars, in cafes, and even ask her boss.
But it will be too late for the baby to be back home,
For all her life she thought it was her real home.*

(c) ForgottenDiety

Poetry is not
a pain in the ***,
it's our little escape
from facing our past.

It does not condemn,
belittle, nor judge our craft,
for poetry itself,
is a mysterious path.

Poetry
belongs to everyone:
Those who bleed words
and fight inner man.
Those who love sharing tales
and even those who have fell.

But whatever life that you have
right now,
Poetry will care atleast
what happened to the sonnet
you forgot to finish.*

(c) ForgottenDiety

With your eyes’ close
And mind at peace
Think all your dreams
That you might left.
Recall all the memories
and shattered scenes
That you will be unseen
Once you’ll be kept,
in that closed rectangle box
that you've been afraid of,
ever since you're a kid.*

(c) ForgottenDiety