In your hand and heart,
I set my faith.
In my hand and heart,
you set your promises.
Fingers intertwined,
planting the seeds
of what we called
love, before.
We watered the seeds
everyday, gave them
soil of what we
called affection.
I could hardly
wait for them to
bloom, and share that
love with you.
Seasons changed like
watercolor fades.
The seeds wilted
before they even
bloom.
I asked you why,
and you told me
you were too tired
to water them everyday,
so you stepped and
spitted on them,
swearing they could never
bloom.
You gave up on them,
as you gave up on
our promises.
I gasped, not knowing
how a person
could be so
transformed, as the
seasons changed.
Later, I found out
that you had been
planting other seeds,
in a place,
far away from
mine.
YOU ARE READING
6 am
Poetry6 am is a collection of poems about the worst kind of pain a heartbreak serves. This is the poem to all the lovers that went wrong and too confused to describe how they feel out there.
