962: Its Pain Not Poetry
Poet, I was not meant to be,
Pain and despair drove me to,
What I wasn’t ever to be
Desired to own a mirage, which told me,
She wasn’t one, but a real collage.
But her reality eluded her,
She succumbed and turned unreal,
Dumb I stood, my love splattered all around,
But she wasn’t there to help me anymore,
Could not collect myself back, gone was my amour.
Its ok, I accept, hurt I remain, unlikely to heal,
Let forgiveness come soon, before I can forget.,
Me, my memory and my grace of forgiveness,
Are in a race, I wish I won.