Suddenly I realised that
The world would not
Stop turning
Not for me, not for anyone.
And I realised that it's not
Like in the movies,
Where you pick yourself up,
And start turning with the world.
It took me from sad, to panicked,
To scared, to numb,
For the world will not stop turning,
And I'm not strong enough to
Pick myself up and turn with it.
g.c.g
YOU ARE READING
The blossom of a poet
PoetryWords fall softly like the petals from a blossom tree, drifting slowly onto the paper, creating poetry like the spring, beautiful and light, but just like the seasons, the poetry changes, the autumn comes and the words become heavy, falling quickly...
