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Many say our love was immature,
and as trivial and petty as it might've seemed,
the hues of our love once painted the sky golden,
a melody so pleasant we had conceived,
even the birds had danced along to the beat.
And the story propagates still relentlessly,
from the stars that shine ceaselessly in the sky,
to the boundless oceans that wash waves of tears up the shore.
We were merely kids in love,
oh, but seems like it wasn't so mere after all.
YOU ARE READING
To, My Long Lost Love
PoetryThis world may have broken us apart, but our story shall continue, even if it's just in these ever-flowing words in my head.
