Sometimes I wake covered in sweat
thinking of things I will always regret.
Then soon after I start to recall
only to realize I knew nothing at all.
The day will come when I forget your voice
but I hope you know it won't be by choice.
The way you acted the way you played
if I was in charge you would have stayed.
The feeling of shame when loosing a piece
you know for a fact it's not a willing release.
Then comes the question, were you real?
But of course I do conceal.
They live life as though you never existed
and if you ask me it's certainly twisted.
I try my best to keep you in my head
but sometimes I get overcome by dread.
What if one day I truly forget?
But nothing can fight this silent threat.
YOU ARE READING
Taking a Stab at it.
PoetryI haven't really tried to write poems but due to recent events, I've decided to take a stab at it. Rhymes and near rhymes are my friends, just thought you should know. Most, if not all, of the poems Rhyme.
