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  • Hmm

    How

    Searching

    But not finding

    That’s what I’m doing

    But what’s the use?

     

    The ultimate goal

    Was not to find, of course,

    Happiness

    But to try and give it.

     

    But what can you

    Give

    That you don’t

    Have

     

    Who was it?

    You or me?

    Do either of us

    Have a heart?

    Is yours cold and hard?

     

    Tired

    Unloved

    On the edge

     

    Why isn’t someone

    Coming?

     

    Thoughts churning

    Images blurring

    Heard aching

    Look what you did

    Remember what

    You asked for

    Remember what

    I gave you

    And remember what

    You threw away

    Now remember what

    You forgot.

     

    Painful?

    Maybe not

    But looking at you

    Feels the same way

    You have the ladies hanging

    All around you every day.

     

    Dang you move fast

    But it won’t last

    Escape from the past

    You wouldn’t be the last

     

    How did it happen?

    I’m still confused

    So fast

    I feel so used

     

    I don’t cry

    I never cry

    But I can drop

    Silent tears

     

    Although those rarely come out

    What I’m doing now shows

    What you did

    Are you proud?

     

    Your still there

    Everyday

    Then you stopped

    Even just to say

     

    Anything

    And there I lay

    The knife over my heart

    Your hand on the handle

    My life flickering

    Like a candle

     

    First strike

    Surprise

    Second strike

    Disappointment

    Third strike

    Regret at would I didn’t

    Or couldn’t do

    Fourth strike

    Pain

    Fifth strike

    Overpowering immense sadness

    Sixth strike

    It’s numb and I’m quietly flowing into crazy happiness.

     

    And so many more

    But what for?

    Did you have all this in store?

    Just for me?

     

    Tell me what I did

    Maybe I deserved it

    Maybe I don’t deserve love

    I wasn’t enough?

     

    With no answer

    I guess not.

    Well at least I fought

    And the lesson you taught

    Will not disappear

    From my heart.

     

    Selena

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    dreamersangel’s Poems (20)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Battlefield of My Love 0
    I Hate You 1
    The Truth: Always for you 0
    Imprisonment 0
    Not Good Enough 1
    Only with you 1
    Dreams 0
    From Who's Heart? 0
    Is It Your Right 0
    Betrayal 0
    What We've Been Through 0
    Alone 0
    How 0
    Eternal Love 0
    Set Me Free 0
    True to Myself 0
    Flying Free 0
    The Dreamer's Angel 1
    Complications 0
    Why 0