Of bricks and honey
We arranged
The pathway to
Our golden age
Fire blossomed
Within our hearts
Love kept pain
From being too sharp
Though times were hard
And we had to deal
What mattered most
Was we could feel.
The scorching days
The frigid nights
I wish I'd known
To hug them tight
As shattered glass
And broken ties
Turned the world
Into a mirror that lied
So convincingly
I would have believed
That there was nothing
Left to be felt
I would have believed
That and nothing else
If roses red
And dried tears of blue
And flowing grass
And the lonely moon
Did not remind me
That I needed to feel
Or you would
Have lost me too.
Hmm ever since I took that long hiatus from writing poems I feel like my style has changed. Subtly. My poems aren't as super dark. What do you think?