Dead Love
Dead Love - Poem
Like the sunshine going missing in the shadow,
So is my love.
The darkest green in the meadow,
First blooming like flowers in spring,
Then buried like the loved ones in a funereal.
But my feelings are like secrets,
Never dared to be told,
Because of all the power they hold.
So I am left to suffer alone,
To fight the lion,
Or was my mind playing tricks?
Was this feeling an illusion,
Made by my brain,
I come to a conclusion;
Never did I know how real romantic love felt.
How it is to held.
Asking the flowers,
Does he love me?
Or does he love me not?
Something I don’t have to waste my time on.
He is long gone,
Doting on another,
Whose name is not mine.
- Emily Knoll
Copyright © Emily Silette | Year Posted 2025
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