I’ve picked myself up After what after seems the thousandth time I start to pray with a stupidity Asking for something that just won’t happen Maybe Somehow But I know deep down It’s not possible That you will walk through those doors And I will run to you Hug you and never let you go without you taking me with you I will beg you to let me go with you I will say I am coming too I can only dream of that now But think more and more of death I do the best My fragile breaking little heart can do And beat away In a rush That just rocked my world in the worst way I am just a thought away Like Romeo to closing his eyes for his Juliet I just think deeply and what seems like an eternity Trying to pull myself together But just not quite yet… In Spanish you first whispered it Translating it for me Because I claimed I’d die if I didn’t know It’s as if you predicted And warned me beforehand that it’s possible And I didn’t know how precious our moments were few And the accuracy of what you said- Till today It was the last thing you told me: “If I could be anything when I die I would be you’re tears when you cry I would feel your face And rest with peace upon you’re lips”
Reason for writing:
Carl Sandburg is a poet who wrote that poetry is like a door that opens and closes, leaving us to guess what we just seen inside. I’d like this to be that kind of poem.
Birth sign: Aries
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