I remember those days,when we live for each other.
But now we are like just a strangers.
You forgot about me & I 'll never remind you.
Maybe you don't care, but I do ...
I don't blame you,It was my fault,wasn't it?
It always was my fault ,I realized it.
I'm dark, cold & not as funny as your friends are.
I'm just a mad one,who will take you so far.
( it was my fault. Wasn't it? .... )
They say I'm insane , but it's only what they think.
It was they ,that made me like this,but I can't proove it.
Maybe I was not good enough for you,but honestly I tried .
After all,being good was a game,that I always failed ...
-
Author:
Diana (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 23rd, 2022 12:54
- Category: Sad
- Views: 47
Offline)
Comments5
The irony of fault is that it can lie on both sides, even if we choose not to see it. So much easier to beat yourself up than to accept a fault in another. Been there and done that. You have the wonderful gift of words to express yourself, explore all that you are. Keep writing!
I can relate to your poem. I feel that way often.
When I was a child, I had a really bad day at school. When I got home, my Nonna was sitting outside watching honeybees buzzing around a plant in our backyard. I went and sat next to her with a heavy heart. We both sat in silence for what seemed like a long time watching the bees. Finally, my Nonna broke the silence and said in broken English, "The honeybee can make honey from even the bitterest of flowers. You be like the honeybee."
You really should learn to love and like yourself a little bit more .. I am glad I dared to venture this way and feel sure I shall return to your ink .. perhaps .. All Good Things, Neville
For if we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.