The sprawling miles of time
brushing past in hindsight
are pulling me back and
weighing down on me tonight
And the sharp discrepancy is
as jarring as it gets
I expect the unexpected,
but still lose all of my bets
Yet I still cannot constrict
the stature of my hope
surpassing where it should be,
almost tragic in its scope
Because a strident sound takes
the joy I stored away
Tinting every smile I make
in a somber shade of gray
And it seems maybe I
forgot a petal on the ground
And never followed up the best
with the truth I never found
Been misreading all the signs
But now I know “he loves me not”
But by tomorrow, I’ll forget
I’m the girl that he forgot
That he loves me not.
I know now I suffer from a rare
form of disease
An amnesiac to the truth
I expel it with such ease
But the way you look at me
for a moment, in the dark
I could swear on my own life
That you too can feel the spark
I feel my eyes rolling back
Into the bliss sent from above
My lips thanking God for
gifting me with love
But then a strident sound takes
the joy I stored away
Tinting every smile I make
in a somber shade of gray
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Incredible write. Haven' t they found a cure yet, for the dreaded disease, amnesia of the truth....so many have long suffered, from it's effects. Your honesty laces this poem in perfect timing for St. Valentine's Day...that some still have hearts to mend. I invite you into my words, as well. PEACE