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The smell of sky pours on us
in the form of minuscule droplets ,
that day will be reminded
again and again ,
whenever I’ll see the white lilies
drenching in sadness ;
the grounds on which
you and I stood ,
will be calling out our names again ;
tell me ,
will I find you once again ?
the last time you
had smiled that mischievous
smile at me ,
I can’t remember it anymore ;
It’s okay ,
I’ll see you when our Octobers end ,
I’ll wait for a little more ;
You’ll see me being your best man
on your tuxedo day
in a tie bow tie ,
I’ll cry a river because you’ll be
so adorable to look at ,
make sure you cry too ,
so that we look
funny enough
to laugh out loud .
And ,
maybe ,
then ,
I can let go of my endless agony .
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[If this girl's words have touched your soul , matter not how faint the sensation felt , would you mind dears , if she wished for you to tap on that minuscule star beneath and send kudos to her , please ?] :)
YOU ARE READING
into her phenakistoscope
Poetry«« when her life was at a halt , an illusion of motion was created and in her dreamlike state , her reality and her imagination met and gave her a blurred vision , her phantasmagoria took birth where her soul saw dreams of a...
