Maybe it's better this way.
I could even get used to it.
Because were I to have
a glimpse of bliss,
only for it to be taken back,
I would never be able
to pick myself up again.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Blues
PoetryTonight, my love is the rain that fills the heart while it lasts and leaves sweet pain in its wake. Poems-- my way of clearing my mind. Highest Ranking: #3 in Poetry ~~~ 18 December 2016
60. Better
Maybe it's better this way.
I could even get used to it.
Because were I to have
a glimpse of bliss,
only for it to be taken back,
I would never be able
to pick myself up again.
