My Poetry

without you, my poetry is dead, leaving a crack of sadness; and for this I just may stop, ‘cos the spirits are untreatable; i hurt my mind… and shattered my sanity; better if we have not met, you thought; i agreed, for you delved too much at the vanity; and thru the pieces that I may have or, may have not given; and thru the songs that I may have or, may have not written; and I think, maybe I should reconsider picking-up the thread of my life, for good grace is my heart lasting desire; to start again as if it were sunrise, perhaps, I find a sweet butterfly, however this may seem hope is keeping me alive; unto you eternal peace and joy, I wish even thru my deepest sorrow.