From the saddest part of my heart,
I try to write the saddest words.
Words filled with deserted dreams,
Words that will expunge me.

But, will it make the souls quiver?
Will it sting the sternest heart?
Peel my tempestuous mind,
And turn it into a delicate art.

After I write, in the tears filled night.
Will it soak up, all the sorrows of life?
With the eyes of pity, and fear-filled skin,
Will you cry as I bleed with the ink?

If it can do none, then seal the hands that write.
Beyond this promise me to never unrecalled my words,
And call me the traveler who dreamt of the saddest poem.

Deep in the mind where memories reside,
Something dormant awakens during slumber.
Taking full control of the perceived world,
It shape-shifts into colorful shadows that seem familiar.

Greens and grays drip with so much meaning,
they can hardly be understood.
Flashbacks move forward in time so swiftly
they can hardly be remembered.
Like an obscure image at the corner of one’s eye,
never fully seen.

I am just a phase
A temporary object in people's lives
I am option
No one's priority
If I'm that easily thrown away
why do I even exist