Monday 30 August 2010

poem : guilty pleasure

the sky has lost its color, and the sun turns grey. at least that's how it feels to me. whenever you're away.

the fragrances are now odor, and oh those drab days. at least that's how i feel when i am no longer me. which coincides with your presence's sway.

i crawled up in the corner. to count the minutes pass. each one brings me closer to, the time you're coming back.i can't take the distance, i couldn't stand the miles. just in an instance, the thoughts erased the smiles.

but i see the lights now. i always do. i pray now for the end of the coo. sounds of despair from creeping in. killing all i ever believing in.

these mellow traits just don't have me operated. instead, it derives me as stagnant, and segmented. thus i need my palette of colors back. just don't leave me asphyxiated in the sack..

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