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moonchildmoonchildPoems
I I can never tell a lonelier story than the time when I thought Love was forever— ‘cos months after I realized: There was no love at all. It was a dream; Vague and sudden yet sometimes so clear that I could almost see the future for me. That was brave— so bold and uncompromising, ‘cos I gave it all I’d swear, I gave it all. It was when I lingered on lonely poems sitting: unnoticed along the shelves— undisturbed, just like a child waiting to be taken home. There I wept alone my hands on lonely poems. II But that was History for my first self— wanting to be free from her struggles. and then I asked unlike teenage girls who love to fall in love: Why do you still need more after it had proved you wrong? Right then I hammered my heart that was turning into stone— tore away the pages of that lonely poem. I promised not to forget how it felt when it ***** my soul and caged me like a hyena: talking, mimicking, without identity; Just another girl, he hurts me. Just another girl. And now I’ve lost track of memory saved and clicked to flicker on screen to remind me of pain— ‘cos I saw a mirror once again and then another cage and guess what: I wished to go there! Though I know my would-be, still I might plan to start all over again, so that one more poem may be written.
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Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 1:24 PM UTC
Lonely Poems
I I can never tell a lonelier story than the time when I thought Love was forever— ‘cos months after I realized: There was no love at all. It was a dream; Vague and sudden yet sometimes so clear that I could almost see the future for me. That was brave— so bold and uncompromising, ‘cos I gave it all I’d swear, I gave it all. It was when I lingered on lonely poems sitting: unnoticed along the shelves— undisturbed, just like a child waiting to be taken home. There I wept alone my hands on lonely poems. II But that was History for my first self— wanting to be free from her struggles. and then I asked unlike teenage girls who love to fall in love: Why do you still need more after it had proved you wrong? Right then I hammered my heart that was turning into stone— tore away the pages of that lonely poem. I promised not to forget how it felt when it ***** my soul and caged me like a hyena: talking, mimicking, without identity; Just another girl, he hurts me. Just another girl. And now I’ve lost track of memory saved and clicked to flicker on screen to remind me of pain— ‘cos I saw a mirror once again and then another cage and guess what: I wished to go there! Though I know my would-be, still I might plan to start all over again, so that one more poem may be written.
Written by
moonchildmoonchild
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 1:24 PM UTC
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