A memory
-- that's all it is.
A feeling
That will never flourish,
Never be fully kindled.
A fleeting shard from the past,
Never to be now,
Or the future,
Never to be again.
And yet I torture myself,
Replaying it in my head.
Hoping for the hopeless,
Dying to live again,
Because a memory
Is all that is left.
A/N I know. You are all going hate me for all these badly written, depressing poems. I'm going to publish them anyway though :P
ESTÁ A LER
Poetry!!
PoesiaJust some poems that I write, be warned, some of them are kinda sad. Here ya go!
