contemplation
most wretched are cradled into poetry by wrong, they learn in suffering what they teach in song.
Saturday, 23 April 2011
lost dream
You still made my heart skip a bit,
eyes moist again..
But I don’t love u anymore.
Neither do you,
But something still pulls us
A silken thread of memories,
Tangled in the thorns of life,
Singed with pain,
An addictive sweet pain…
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