Andrew Crisci Poet Lyric

At This Age

Remembering our wild days
brings back the nostalgic feeling
often suppressed by me,
but it's slowly growing:
ah, these flashbacks
are filled with regrets,
it's too hard to grasp reality!

At this age, real dreams
don't motivate my low spirit
to draw realistic visions,
I sit alone and grieve...
sending loneliness to Hell;
I still hear the voice of Anabel
louder than the crow's shrill
that pierces through this will,
it refuses to be a windmill!

So distant is her divine smile,
it made existence worthwhile;
so helpless is the wish to own her again
and end this sadness with a happy refrain!
I chase her until I trip on the curb,
but running fast is absurd,
by now, she has disappeared
while the tragedy repeats my screams...
giving rhythm to steady heartbeats! 

At this age, nobody pays attention
to my irrational rush,
I carry an empty heart for some time,
ah, the vain hope soon will be gone, 
but I won't be deceived
or even be deluded
by another easy crush;
it would be pretension!

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment