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Lily Sep 19
My words stick to the
Roof of my mouth like peanut butter,
Like white bread,
And no matter how hard they try,
They can’t escape.
Lucky to make it past my brain’s thick fortress,
Now they sit useless at the tip of my tongue,
Wishing to come forth but my mouth
Not forming the words.
My vowels languish in my throat and
My consonants sit listless,
All my verb phrases and direct objects
Lie in a jumbled mess,
Too disheartened to make a move.
They know that if they leave my lips,
Others will take them and cut them up,
Mince them like onions,
But the only person who will cry over them is
Me.
Eventually, too many letters will clamor at my
Lips for attention, and my throat will
Close entirely,
Never fessing,
Admitting,
Confessing,
The things I feel.
"I don't want to admit to something, if all it's gonna cause is pain" ~ Eminem, 'River'

I was inspired while listening to music today :)
Kristo Frost Sep 2015
She's in the kitchen
(close the door)
just mixin' up some metaphor;
a true conundrum
through and through
and through to me and thus to you.

Her humble hunger
(forest's slumber)
thunders 'neath a wilting tune;
tuned to too many
to count without
a thought within.

She must profess
(but shall confess)
to any who will listen;
closely she holds
a tragic history
mostly mystery to most.

She solves my soul
(I deny that hole)
which she still fills;
overflowing always
with such unrelenting joy
that is My Love.
Dani Nov 2018
No song explains it, no poems I’ve read
So I guess I must write one, to express what’s dead
He loves me, I am sure
But my soul does he adore?
He loves me as we are supposed to
The way they tell you when you say “I do”
Here is the thing though, I must express
We have fallen way too far, the subject I must press
A marriage once made for love has changed
Now a business partnership, tasks exchanged
I know between us love is there
But it’s a chore now, what despair
“I cannot live without you.”
He says to me, but “I can’t live with you.”
I scream in my head
My soul almost dead
I do not blame you, or who you are
I blame us both, for driving this far
I must confess I wish we could…
But we cannot, it’s no longer any good
We deserve better, we deserve love
Not the kind that we have, as it’s fading
But the kind with clear cut passion, no shading
It’s the rare, true, and scariest goal
To find someone to love your soul
My heart sings for you, and what we built
My soul cries out to me, filled with guilt
For I have neglected it’s thirst for a drink
You see, that is more important, I think
To follow your soul, fill it with its desires
To explore and find adventures, until it expires
I cannot miss out on another cry
For my soul needs fed or it will die
I tried to express, what I now confess
I tried to express, I even gave you my compass
Maybe you have a different map
Is it worth it to try? Or is it a trap?
I must go now, as my soul has a call
To live life, and experience it all!
My soul is suffocating. I desire adventures and excitement. I want to live and love life. I am held back tremendously. My soul is withering away slowly..
Natasha Sep 2018
First I fell for your eyes
With hazel specks and inviting guise
Then I fell for your laugh
Uneven and hearty and somewhat shy.

Soon I fell for your hands
Then your lips, your brain, and incredible drive—
Your truths, your dreams, your curious smile
Your biggest regrets and most convincing lies.

And now I’ve fallen for you.
And all at once it feels jeopardized—
I fear to confess
Those 3 little words that
Historically have been so weaponized.
pk tunuri Mar 2018
Let go your ego's, even if it's tough
Let's just say, that time was rough

Don't break the trust again by playing bluff
End this now, I guess it's enough

It's time to clean up the mess
How long will you take to confess

I'll expect nothing more from you
I know things won’t be same, as I expect to

Still, try & let go your ego's, even if it's tough
Let's just say, that time was rough
Let going your ego might be the toughest part of our lives. But, trust me it's the easiest way to move on.
s v e n Jan 17
My feelings still linger
Towards you.
Still attached
To this idea of a what if-
That will never come true.
I know I confessed a thousand times
And
I know that
These scars on my heart will stay the same.
I also know that
How you view me will stay the same.

I can't help but hold on to a what if.
Yippp~
//Why can't I write more happy poems.
NC Aug 2018
This is the only thing I can do, fill my heart with feelings then spill into word by word, confess by confess, tears by tears that can leave me to ease.
She doesn't know how much you matter,
How you into guns n' roses,
How you fake your laugh on the lame jokes,
And couldn’t make your day beautiful as her face,
Not yet.
But when you look into her eyes
I can see the ends as it's begins
She is the type that you about with no doubt,
She will through a long time and realize every seconds is precious.
Finally, know you better than I do, nobody's care about my feelings nobody's don't even know it's exist, they better not. I can bring my feelings to the lightest east as long as I can say the title of this poetry
Nadia Aug 14
My son absconded with
Half of the sandpit
In his sneakers
It happened to hide
Until it was safely inside
And, even then, it waited
To spread all over
Freshly scrubbed floors
(Sand is diabolical,
You should know)

I would happily
Return the mess
But at the time
It seemed best
To clean up
Before it progressed
(sand craves to
spread untidiness)

I can further attest
That this latest theft
Was unintentional
And this confession
Unnecessary but
Sometimes it feels good
To confess something
Less outrageous than
The darkest of truths

NCL August 2019
neha Dec 2016
seconds, minutes, hours, days

spent hoping it was just a phase

as his parents sent him to a church where they'd say

"son, you better pray the *** away"

surely this "God" had far more important issues

than a boy in a closet with a handful of tissues

surely this "hell" was a place for far worse people

than a boy forced to confess his sins under a church steeple
Mari Aug 21
I accepted
love
When I least
expected it.
Alyssa Underwood Apr 2016
From depths of woe I raise to Thee
The voice of lamentation;
Lord, turn a gracious ear to me
And hear my supplication;
If Thou iniquities dost mark,
Our secret sins and misdeeds dark,
O who shall stand before Thee?

To wash away the crimson stain,
Grace, grace alone availeth;
Our works, alas! are all in vain;
In much the best life faileth:
No man can glory in Thy sight,
All must alike confess Thy might,
And live alone by mercy.

Therefore my trust is in the Lord,
And not in mine own merit;
On Him my soul shall rest, His Word
Upholds my fainting spirit:
His promised mercy is my fort,
My comfort, and my sweet support;
I wait for it with patience.

What though I wait the livelong night,
And till the dawn appeareth,
My heart still trusteth in His might;
It doubteth not nor feareth:
Do thus, O ye of Israel’s seed,
Ye of the Spirit born indeed;
And wait till God appeareth.

Though great our sins and sore our woes,
His grace much more aboundeth;
His helping love no limit knows,
Our utmost need it soundeth.
Our Shepherd good and true is He,
Who will at last His Israel free.
From all their sin and sorrow.

                           ~ Martin Luther (1483-1546)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aVWBSmghAs
Monica Oct 2018
This is a confessional poem

but what crimes have I committed?
I have not pled
guilty or
innocent.

Maybe innocent by reason of insanity.

I am not under a lamp
in a windowless room.
No officers are grilling me.
I have nothing to hide
yet nothing to tell.

This is a confessional poem

but what are my sins?
I don't tell those to
just anyone who
asks.

I am not on my knees
in a reverential box.
There is no screen
with a priest on the other side.
I am not being
forgiven.

This is a confessional poem.

But why?
Because I use the
word
I?

All this is
is my pen, my paper,
me,
and you.

And I ain't tellin' you nothin'.
sara May 2014
the words we softly whispered
in a language of our own
as we silently ruled our kingdom
from our pillow thrones

i'm cradled in your arms
and the room is dimly lit
as my soldiers lay down their arms
and i begin to let you in

novels of dreams and childhood years
tales of sleepless nights
reports of all my irrational fears
which i confessed by dim candlelight

thoughts that my mind had never before heard
tumbled from my mouth- i was choking
on the brutality of all my honest words
and the ideas which you were provoking

like birds in a cage,
my feelings trapped for too long
and the dust on this page
had been there all along

the first time i was hurt
i swore it was my last
but i begin to revert
with my red wine filled glass

as we slowly drift off into our peaceful slumber
both enveloped by the night
i did, in fact, begin to wonder
if i should confess love by dim candlelight
inspired by and loosely based on lamplight by bombay bicycle club
MeanAileen Mar 2017
Tell me that I'm beautiful,
say it aloud tonight.
Tell me I mean everything,
confess I am always right.
Say that I'm like magic,
treat me just as a queen.
Speak words I long to hear,
let me live in a dream....
Shower me with promises,
drown me in your desire.
Whisper sweet devotions,
tho I'll know you're a liar.
Tell me how much you love me,
say you will never leave...
Feed to me these little fibs
I want so much to believe~
One of my personal favorites...
Logan Robertson Jul 2018
A black crow's darting eyes
spans the wheat field
and an orange pumpkin patch.
She sees
tall grasses of brown
seedlings,
bristling in the wind,
soon to be bushels of grain
and a pumpkin pie that she never savored.
She sits, atop her tree perch,
at times warm and storybook,
hidden by tree branches,
and at times out of harm's way
and infamy.
Her friends, the sun, and clouds in concert,
dancing along.
Her other friends bring alms and smiles.
Life is so good at times.
Down the road sits a mill
next to a waterfall
and a cabin,
with reindeer horns
hanging above the doorway.
She is in her element, happy,
carrying for her nestlings.
Back and forth her parental eyes dart
the hilly fields, a smoked filled chimney, and her babies,
all crawling with sustenance and awe.
Storybook.
A mother feeding a worm to her baby.
Storybook.
Off to her side is not a blind eye
watching her,
scary stick figures of
straw tucked under red shirts and hats,
with a tied tinfoil strips dotting
her eyes and tease.
Scarecrows, cease.
At times life is good nature, hand in hand,
knock on wood.
If only life could be circumspect.
Than darkness filling the light
and a stutter of life.
For a sad page is turned,
pause
... tears.
Then, feathers fall.
Hers.
The sound of a thud.
Silence and tears of her friend's swelling.
A baby's cry, missing her mother.
More orphaned tears.
Who would be this despicable?
On that rogue day.
A kick of a donkey,
an ***,
one bad rock on her path,
breaks the air,
as three little elementary kids were walking along
to school.
One, me, with a rock in his hand,
taking aim at her perch
and the death of the black crow's pages.
I confess.
... Bless me, Father, for I have sinned
it has been fifty years since
my last confession ...
a Tom Sawyer-like childhood gone worse.
I repent.
Some fifty years later I think of those first cairns,
including stealing the reindeer horns and milling
my brother and sister's storybook.
Waterfalls
stream tears, and a sorry boat
rowed downstream
sadly
thereafter.

Logan Robertson

7/25/2018
Casper Dec 2018
The days,
My mine did break,
I was imprisoned,
Destroyed,
Swept out of existence.
A boy lonely,
A sad one.
Craving to look once more,
Happy.
I was hopeless,
Feast soon my misery.
Divert me,
From this morbidity.
Last I could resist,
No longer,
I will confess,
With tears I went.
Jordan Rowan Nov 2015
Send my dreams to the paper press
I've got too much to confess
This whole mind is a mess
And it's mine
It's all I could find
As I was spending too much time
Screaming and crying

**** my brothers in the Middle East
Let their souls be released
As the mongrel dogs have a peaceful feast
On our blood
Down in the mud
When it's someone you don't love
You don't even shrug

Break my bones over color pride
Don't you see what I have inside?
For my thoughts, I must die
Or else I'm a joke
Lost within the smoke
If I'm not rich then I must be broke
A dying man unknown

Make the streets a place of peace
Instead of hate and bombing grease
Power only makes us weak
To ourselves
To you and myself
Take a long look at yourself
And you can tell

The morning comes and someone's gone
Sent away to a funeral song
They lost their life being young
And still bright
Now they only see the night
As their mother tries to sleep at night
Without life

I'm dead and gone someday soon
But still I love each sun and moon
As they pass over my room
I kneel down
I start to look around
I start to love everything I've found
And I'm proud
slay Aug 2018
Braids in her hair with the beads
So I can always hear her walk away from me
Shorty is a dog like me
No telling when I’ll ever sweep her off her feet

She said, “say less” I was silent
I Guess I had to be reminded
She fell off when my doubts hit
Cause I ain’t never really loved a woman
Until I met you
If I have to confess to you
You’re the only one who got me feelings the feels
Ain’t no other woman
No man I’ve been with
Now I’m asking you to patiently

Hear me cry
Girl, it’s almost over gotta get this out of my system
Say goodnight, girl not so long till youre by my side girl , oh girl

I got this feeling for you
You so unique and you cool
My baby Neek, I’m her fool
She so dramatic, I’m coolin on the way
To her crib, two more lights and bang a left
Like I be banging on the door
Like I be banging on that ***
You so **** precious when you smile
And your nose ring catch the light
From the hallway got the door cracked
You the light of my **** life

Girl, cryyyy
it’s almost over gotta get this out of my system
Say goodnight, girl not so long till youre by my side girl , oh girl

I hit the blunt not to think about you
I wasn’t playing when I said he changed you
***** drop to my knees barstool
And back that *** up let you see it full moon

Gimme some ******* warnin’
You gon’ have me jump out of my skin
Fingers up and down my spine when
You unlatching the clasp of my necklace

Girl, cryyyy
Cause it’s been so long since you were by my side say good niiggghhtttt but truth be told it’s a lie

I’m lying naked in this bed
Thinking of how you look undressed like when them lashes off no ******* on
I taste your name in every breath
Peter B Apr 2016
After sin comes remorse
so let me confess my sins:
I lied to myself
that God exists.

I killed my freedom.
I stole my own happiness.
I ***** my own dignity.
I betrayed the joy of ***
and joy of life.
I commited an open-mind's suicide.

After sin comes remorse,
so I repent of my sins,
that I lied to myself
that God exists.
Jordan Rowan Jan 2016
Sometimes as days go by so fast
We take time to dwell on the past
Hazy pictures and memories of laughs
Moments in time we'll never get back

Tell me your stories like we first met
Tell me again so I won't forget
Soon I will but not just yet
Soon, I can use them when you're upset

We fight for the times we think were best
When we were younger and needed no rest
When all was ahead, no sins to confess
Heads full of dreams and love in our chest

Somewhere along these perpetual years
We learn to accept that time disappears
Pictures are best kept stained with our tears
What lies ahead will be better than here
zebra Sep 2018
have you ever seen beauty in a silky nightmare
have you  ever seen the monster of deprivation in heavens promise?

we speak of private things
we should never talk about
about vailed women
and their terrible secrets
and about myself who remains no longer a secret to myself

somewhere i went off the track
like a  daisy chain saw of honesty
to ensure you knew i was sick
a sick **** with a trick
as if i ate some ****** up hallucinogenic' s
making me spill my obsessions all over you
like some weird perfumed *****
down a swirling rainbow toilet
that turns out to be only jelly and whipped cream
wrapped in colored ribbons on cellophane tampons

i feel like  having *** or going to the toilet in public
while waving my hands up in the air
screaming yahoo i'm free
to blow to kingdom come
the temple of normalcy
you know
the church of rose gardens, cemeteries and deprivations
except of course for the sneers, smears
and self loathing vanilla demons
who wear long see through dresses and crosses
like dash board plastic virgins
with bobbing heads
that make hissing sounds about sin

i confess
i'm attracted to the darkest women
strange *******
and  ******
the stranger the better
who shake their butts
like hoodoo enchanted show girls
doing what they shouldn't do
crying and scrying like cooing moons calling
"drink me like ****** Mary
daddy **** lollypop"
all inky tats and razorblade ouchies

or
you can join those
covered in white collared black as death habits
begging the invisible *** cake in paradise
waiting for mercy and a little ****
that never comes
stuck in an empty
loveless bar of crucifixes that only serves up theology

oh baby
***** dreams do come true
pink ****** ***** gladly widen their haunches
like **** without boots
not caring if they go to hell
playin
like a joy ride of fiddle **** sticks
all freaky tongues and tingling licks
thick saliva multi lingual blow jobs
lathering flashing lipped saliva for the squirt  
with fiery wet hypodermic kisses
that make screams
like creamed upleaping lava and ash
for a million hungry sexed up twisting tongues
in occult ecstasy
fecundating shrouds of steamy clouds
in stained red black lighted rooms
with cherub crowned *****
and their drooling snatches buttered ****

eat quivering
like fowl mouthed piranhas
crying more raw meat please
while you drag your perfect person visage
into hollow caves of despair
cold and lonely

so you forlorn love struck weeping
horney pathetic scarecrow
socially engineered robots
if you want love
like heated buttery waffles with sweet jam
just give your self away like slutty putty
to lust criminals and *** addicted pervs  
until
you feel someone swallow you whole
soul and all
and lick their lips
like your their cherry pie

then look passed your
rats nest of pride and exhaustive approval list
and love them back
like free beer
bang their brains out
be their slave and make them yours
in the mad house of love
of warped shimmering mirrors, straight jackets, and squeezy insertions

and if one day they don't appreciate your imperfect perfection
if they weaponize like critic's
teach them respect
shove it where they breathe
lick your wounds
be brave
throw them in the trash bin of history
and move on

Eros and Venus
take a million forms

look around
your swimming in a giant bowl of broken hearts
hungry mouths, drenched ***** and hard *****

you whimpering little beasts
dress to ****
undress to live

its a movable feast
advice to the lovelorn young
thank you to Lora Lee for the line
" swirling toilet rainbows"
sara Jul 2018
It became a long
and drawn out mess.
You push me back, I'd pull you in
just to counteract the loneliness.

I don't really want you,
I'll confess.
I just want things that I'm not meant to;
the feel of forbidden sweetness.

I will wear a little less,
each time you say no more;
just as you feel like you forget,
you'll smell the smoke beneath your door.
Sorry if this offends anyone?
Scurry hurry
Shaking hands shaped by worry
tie the knot of plastic
A bubble home for the hard green cup
where brown and white
mixed lay married.

Wash rush
Dainty legs in dark blue denim
hasn't time to be romantic
A worn out sister played by hope
shuts the door panting.

  It clings to a robust tree
  head hidden under rosy pink    
  protective shield
  edged in yellow

  The fireflies

  
Sticky webs of empty lies packaged in boxes of deception by the wizard that doesn't work
sit dead on the small bedside table
like the results they provide.

Boxes and boxes of cozy containers
and cards of capsules
47 I counted them
current and extras
They choke my sight
then I am groped by the smooth blue robes worn by the youthful shepherd
posing aside a grey rock looking yonder
into the distance as insta-natural as possible in a pastel painted picture framed in wood against the wall.
  
  Unstable molecules in tiny airtubes,  
  many, breakdown and explode
  like little landmines
  A bio-luminescent lit ***** assaults a  
  dense night flashing brilliant
  to find a mate
  Six strong neon-green throbbing blinks
  Six slow seconds of unimaginable
  wordless dreamless dark.

  are bright.

  
I turn my head
The whole unsettling mass of reality
is torn apart into vibrant colorful morsels,
then reassembled
as my eyes  
settle
on

Her

"Oh God, if you're here, heal her now
and you'll have me. Show me what those confident tongues so eagerly confess.
Please!"

NOTHING
Another sticky empty square
covered in thick black-strap molasses
slapped to the face of the fool
who likes sweet things.

BUT

What happened to the omni-this, omni-that CEO of God enterprises?
"Go on Death" is what that means
"Go on Death do your job" is what it does

"It's your time.
It's to test your faith.
Gods plan."
All slogans for the man
who believes and dies.
  Culture creates the fool
  Hope keeps the fool
  Belief kills the fool
Thanks for doing what all those boxes
and all the pictures
on all the walls of the world do

FOOL

Her face,
a gaunt kind of skin-to-bone sight
a bad flavor
like a meal with no taste

Her mouth,
crack-lipped, framed by dry
delivers deadly blows to a heaving chest
that says; "Give me air"
yet lungs say no

Anguish,
is ****** from the pit of my cold stomach
then up through the spirit of a warm heart
I plaster the feeling in the shape of water.
My eyes puddle

I weep

It sticks

Love,

Falls

Fluttering as a twinkle
through soft beams of sunlight,
the drop glistens
plops
then dies
on the pink and blue checkered blanket.

All I have to offer are busky palms
to soothe this battered body
before you are torn apart by what
puts things like us together.

I swallow her frame

Her calf - bone

Squeeze and move

Her thigh,
my hand wraps completely
pinching a sausage sized piece of muscle
not big enough to walk
between plump thumb
and meaty middle

Squeeze and move

Her hip bone is angular
It fits flush in my hand
like the hard front peak of a cricket cap
when held above the grid

Squeeze and move

My chunky tentacles massage over
wire-thin barely blue throbless veins
that decorate her meatless paws
and twig-like fingers.

Squeeze and move
  
  It's after midnight
  Thick curds of desperation push
  again, through a splendid backside
  a special toosh
  slogging a dancing night-fever
  to beat the two-to-four,
  a beam as bright as a green day
  cuts through the black pitch of night

  

I hold her hand
A thin filling between two slices of mine
I look at her eyes and turn away

Have you ever been pulled from the center of  your heart, ripped head first through the narrow crack of your own chest, tossed aside like a skin-sheet onto a concrete glass-covered floor then squashed beneath the majesty of a billion dancing floor-clapping feet attached to a shapeless void shapeshifting as slideshows  between all things gone, here, and still to come, stopping on the body of a small blue boy that sings in ghostly echo;
"Don't turn away from this.
Look till you see me through the eyes of another because this too
will happen to you
Clap clap clap clap!
I'm coming for you.

Trapped in a square tunnel made of brick, walls wide enough for one bus no brakes to speed through, no escape,
I accept what will squash me
I Face it
I Stand before it

I stare at her eyes staring back at me
A deep dagger stare
Two parts steel
meshed
until there is only steel
It melts

I simmer the room in soft whisper;
"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."
I hold her hand,
patting the top as I warm the bottom
I smile for her, at me
I smile back, as me
  
  A skillful mimic
  Here I come
  I have light and breath
  I see yours
  I come at night
  Not for genes or ***
  I hunt and gut
  Hawking down I come as death

  
The gaps between her labored breaths become bigger and for a second I drift at the sight reappearing on the sandy dunes of an empty dessert space pushed by a dying wind I can barely feel.

A sharp salty tang toils the tip of my tongue and brings me back to her.

Her eyes

They have changed

Open

But

Soul

   less

     Soulless

     Desolate

   Like

That dessert

And that place where


*The Fireflies Lose their Light
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
You're the best of the best,
one whom I can trust,
my inner most secrets I confess.
You have been my all in all, the best of the best.

You're as deep as the sea
and as bright as the stars.
You're the one that I can count on
for now and through years to come.

You're the person that can hold
the wanderlust in me and keep me close;
the one who steals my heart away
and brightens my every day.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Traveler Dec 2013
You’ll never know just how sorry I am
It was absolutely my fault
The world was spinning out of control
And my selfishness is all I sought
In my madness I became too lazy
To stop the world from all it's crazy
Spinning faster and faster
I was doomed to crash
Unfortunately you caught
   The fall-out of my backlash…

Of all this **** I do confess
I’m the reason you’re a mess
Today we’re here tomorrow we’re gone
  Just know you’re innocent and I am wrong…
Traveler Tim

re to 03-19
Valsa George Jul 2018
on a sea strand,
have you watched empty shells
mercilessly tossed from sea to shore
and from shore to sea?
      
often I shrink and reduce to such a shell,
with jagged and broken edges
colorless and empty

among many a debris cast on the shore,
i lie half buried under the sand
waiting for some mighty wave
to wash me away
all the way to the sea

how tedious is my voyage
shuttling from him to her
and from her to him
unable to openly confess
who weighs more
on the balance of preference

through how many alleys and by ways
I have wandered, questioning my identity!
am I a puffer fish, being toxic
the fisher men have discarded?
a jarring note in a discordant symphony?
I wonder....! I often ask myself!

destined to grow
in mercurial climes,
planted in arid shallow soil
with the tap root trimmed,
branches pruned,
growth denied,
I, a stunted bonsai!

still I dream to be a towering tree,
that in profusion gives fruits and shade!
a ****** aspiring to be a Goliath
a hollow reed,
longing at once to be the singer and the song!
When a divorce occurs, the threat of losing the home and losing the purpose of life confronts a child, especially in the younger age. Children of divorced parents experience a real trauma and they begin to doubt about their own identity!
When a boy thinks of a girl

his cheeks don't go red,
nor do his pupils dilate
but his heart beats as fast
as a horse's gallop in race

His lips strongly tremble
in the midst of conversation
his legs that won't settle
due to headstrong infatuation

her beauty overwhelms him
her cold hand warms his heart
her gaze,  like Medusa's
a romantic work of art

his thoughts full of appreciation
for whatever form she may have
a wonderful mem'ry,  imagination
a thought that can't be grasped

his thoughts he can't express
his mouth he cannot open
his words he can't confess
but his heart, ť was always broken

but all this is not really
'bout when a boy thinks of a girl
because in these words you can tell
that he always has loved her.
does the girl think of the boy?
atptla Mar 2018
Fallen leaves sleep on a lake, sealed with a long forgotten tale.
The heady wind that doesn't let the trees to sleep rules the desolate vale.
Yet, lily-white blossoms, much shinier than arrogant moonlight,
Held their breaths, blinking the shyness, wait on blue philomels' flight.

A poor voice shivers, under the calm water and firm ground,
As to be known by the faltering stars and not to lose his only bound.
Once offered his heart to her white hands hurting with each caress,
But dug it into a fair melody as he was afraid to confess.

In dancing delicacy of a raindrop, his disowned words are hidden,
Has to stay awake, but night is endless and the morning is forbidden.
Wraps around his neck with cold fingers, bereavement fed by devious dismay,
Bereft of remedy, he watches his asunder soul's draining away.
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