For tears that fall
On hollow cheeks
When the weeks feel like years
And the years feel like weeks.

And you sit by a grave
Where the roses grow
But the rose that you seek
Is buried below.

You have my heart
Heavy with sorrow
For the velvet rose
With no tomorrow.

As talent drained from every inch of my mind
I found reading other's work only made me jealous
                   I started to feel unpopular
          Not enough ideas left to create anything at all. Not a single drop of inspiration.

      As all of theses emotions and realizations mixed together

I became okay with copying your work.

       I can imagine you slaving in the dark
Racking your brain to find the perfect words to finish the last line

       Lucky for me I have it all right here, completed and ready to post
     Finished and polished and prepackaged with a message I didn't think of but everyone will commend me for.




    *I hope you enjoy it.

Think about the pure white clouds
Of your beating heart,
Carefully kept inside a crystal box
That only unlocks by the whisper of
A key called hope.

Time will never knock the door,
Until the innocence of your eyes recognizes
The call of baby blue in faraway hills and sky
For climbing to your dreams,
Which are always wrapped with the purity
Of white clouds.

Like a soothing touch of hope,
Enlightened enough to brace the darkness
With pleasure,
I am shimmering now and again
In your arms,
Wearing the garland of love.

I need your hand
But you turned way
You mind  is  set on the I  told so
All  I wanted was your love
My tears stained my skin
I look up for the sun
But all saw was  the moon

I hope you finally find what you were looking for
Because I'm lost
And no one's looking for me