Books that you open, books that you close,
I'm dying to know what you're wearing for clothes,
Never before have I felt like a dying rose,
I guess this is the aftermath, of a love overdose.
I dug in too deep, I gave you all I had,
For good three years, I was the best of glad,
But then came the hurt, the pain and the bad,
Nothing left now, but tears, crying and being sad.
Now looking back, I can see the wrong I have done,
Only darkness right now, there's no more sun,
Ending so swiftly, after we had only just begun,
At night, I always had you, now there's no one.
Laying cold at night, alone in my bed,
For you I have fought, stressed and bled,
And oh, all the sweet stuff I've ever said,
I guess it was all in vain now, instead.
Waking up at morning, realizing I'm alone,
Really ruining the purpose, of calling this my home,
Not even sure what I'm able to call my own,
Almost dialing your number up, on my phone.
I'd write you a letter, but what would I write?
You always told me things were gonna be alright,
No matter what I wrote, I'd be wrong in right,
I can't live any longer, in 'maybe' and 'it might'.
I can't come to face, that you're no longer here,
It's foggy and cloudy, I see nothing clear,
Losing you, was all I had the most to fear,
Oh look at my letter, there goes another tear.
Comments about this poem (Love Aftermath by Dan Lundahl )
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