Here we are again
You are my muse.
But as before, its not good.
I still have nothing nice to say
I'm just here to write about you
And all the pain you caused me.
You will cross my mind,
And take my breath away.
My chest hurts so bad I can't move.
Whenever I think of you,
My heart breaks all over again.
I finally can write of you again,
Hopefully to make me forget you.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
Poetry"A poem begins as a lump in a throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness." - Robert Frost.
