Saturday, January 7, 2017

Ah poetry...

Roses that are magically pink,
Wilt imperceptibly on the bedside table.
All the while my fate would wink,
The doctors comfort - now you are stable...
Dreams are colorful, till the dope
Won't work anymore, there's searing pain;
They inject more life, and more hope,
In the drip, and I want to get up again.
The end is near, I face the stairs,
The topmost step would lead to the moon.
Life is so strange, the pink rose glares -
And in my ears, death would croon...

No, I was lying to you when I told you that nobody loves me in a way I want and I have taken it in my stride. I haven't. Why don't people love me back in a way I want? When I love them in a way they can't even think of? Why am I so lonely? You made me cry today. I was so happy in my dream world. You destroyed it. You're also like the rest of them. I just crave for death.

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