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Ana Coman Sep 2019
Have you ever thought about the drop
That got lost from the rain...
Never to fulfill its purpose, as...
it lingered on a forehead ...
slipped and dropped into the duct
And amazed by the warmth
melted into a tear
And fertile it flowed down a cheek
Leaving a trace
For the sun to dry... so that fingers
Could brush away the tiny salt crystals
Ana Coman Sep 2019
I cursed, Heaven and Hell
For the lost ******, the silent bell
I tried so hard to create
That Eternal peace, that teases fate.
Trapped in my pain, heavy as lead
I struggle to lift my head.
And tired, I sit and moan
While watching others on their own
Smiling happy in their sleep
My cheeks burning as I weep.
Spending every hour, night and day
In that bed where my loves lay
Crushed by the silence of this grave
Of that bed I am now slave.
And as my sins I now renew
I sense the world has a grim view
Of a soul broken, into tiny pieces
Each reflected by the creases
And shed through many lonely tears
While others sat enjoying beers.
Bitterness turned my world small
I couldn't forgive them all
To watch them burn
Back to Hell I'd gladly return.
Deaf to the loudest of bells
Carelessly trampling on eggshells
I know it is my own fault
That I am empty and old!
I sat ignoring all the bells
While others loved their own selves.

— The End —