12-01-2013, 08:37 PM
Spread rotten smell,
pinches my eyes.
As I'm walking down the alley with her,
in my company,
and We're trying to say our goodbyes.
And so We did.
Three months after and,
that rotten smell still is indeed spread,
but now I'm all alone in that alley's dark spot,
when I said being together we cannot pursue.
Our love is long gone; as I will be soon
Clock tick tocks and the day of your birth starts,
Every thought of you had vanished from my mind,
but I'm beginning to think,
should I wish you the best, what harm would it do?
I'm grabbing my phone, starting to write
Happy birthday and what not,
sending a message and lying to sleep.
As I woke up in the morning,
there still was no answer.
I started to weep, shouting:
"How can it be? Has it come to this, you hating me?"
Days passed by and answer was still not here,
I started to think: "Did I write something rude?"
So I grabbed my phone once more, pressed the button saying:
"Sent messages".
There were dozens of messages sent by me from this week
and a week before - but a message to her wasn't there.
I asked her friend to check it for me, and so,
here I am now - a lunatic in the world I don't know anymore,
trying to decipher whether this is reality or just a dream-
I wear a straitjacket now, they say it's a new trend,
I never really leave this white room with no windows.
So there it is now, is this poem true or just a dream?
pinches my eyes.
As I'm walking down the alley with her,
in my company,
and We're trying to say our goodbyes.
And so We did.
Three months after and,
that rotten smell still is indeed spread,
but now I'm all alone in that alley's dark spot,
when I said being together we cannot pursue.
Our love is long gone; as I will be soon
Clock tick tocks and the day of your birth starts,
Every thought of you had vanished from my mind,
but I'm beginning to think,
should I wish you the best, what harm would it do?
I'm grabbing my phone, starting to write
Happy birthday and what not,
sending a message and lying to sleep.
As I woke up in the morning,
there still was no answer.
I started to weep, shouting:
"How can it be? Has it come to this, you hating me?"
Days passed by and answer was still not here,
I started to think: "Did I write something rude?"
So I grabbed my phone once more, pressed the button saying:
"Sent messages".
There were dozens of messages sent by me from this week
and a week before - but a message to her wasn't there.
I asked her friend to check it for me, and so,
here I am now - a lunatic in the world I don't know anymore,
trying to decipher whether this is reality or just a dream-
I wear a straitjacket now, they say it's a new trend,
I never really leave this white room with no windows.
So there it is now, is this poem true or just a dream?