There was a little boy,
Who sat in that room,
Who slept in that bed,
Who read that very same book.
His eyes held no smiles,
His mind no memories.
Just his imagination to
keep him company.There was a boy,
Who sometimes sat in that room,
Who occasionally slept in that bed,
Who re-read that very same book.
His eyes held love,
His mind stolen kisses.
A fleeting moment in his desires,
To remember forever.There was a young man,
Who no longer sat in that room,
Who no longer slept in that bed,
Who no longer read the books he loved.
His eyes full of joy,
His head overflowing with memory.
He no longer relied on his mind
To get him through the nights.There was an adult,
Who longed for that room,
Who longed for that bed,
Who wished for that very book.
His eyes full of despair,
His head plagued with betrayal.
He wished for a simpler time,
When his imagination was his friend.
YOU ARE READING
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PoetryThis is a bunch of poems I wrote for different reasons. Some of them I wrote to calm me down during anxiety attacks, some of them are written from when I'm sad, most of the time the mood of the poem reflects how I felt when I wrote it. Some of them...