'I'm not sure if I can do this anymore!'
She cried,
As the anxious feeling in her stomach
Turned to pain,
'I'm not sure this was the right decision'
Her voice is softer now,
Like feet trying their hardest not to
Crack the ice,
'I love you, I do, I just think it's too much
Right now'
Her words come out as a sigh,
Almost a whisper,
As if she doesn't want this to end
But knows it's coming anyway.
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...
