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[icon] (not at all a poem) - poetry is the art of self-expression
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Subject:(not at all a poem)
Time:1546

And so you parade around. Shoes not shine but it doesn't matter anymore, she's gone. You do try to tell yourself that everything will be alright, that every piece broken,fallen, would be picked, healed and you will be fine but it doesn't comfort; you don't trust yourself anymore.

You find her sitting by the bed, clenching her fist, her stomach aching, her eyes watery that it strikes you( how come it took you so long, you don't know) that you don't anything about her. You don't know what she really is like. You don't know what she likes, what she detests or who it is that she really wants and so it frustrates you because she is your girlfriend, your best friend, your friend but you don't know her. You don't know her at all.

When she does walk away, when she leaves, the blame is all on the other partner. You chant foul words, curse the other and hope nothing last for the two. You do this for a while, even now-like a habit- you still do and  though you should know that you drove her away ,you don't.

So the day passes, hours, minutes, seconds and your heart fails to mend because rejection is something new, something you don't want to face, something you cannot accept because if you ever did, you'd never be the same( is this a new fear?)

And so you parade around,
shoes not shine and facade aside,
tell me,
are you happy?

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[icon] (not at all a poem) - poetry is the art of self-expression
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View:The Poetry Billboard. Quarterly Literary Review Singapore.