Poetry Contest : Entry 23

It’s the nights,

That I lie awake,

All the fights,

Of promises we break.

I toss and turn,

Thinking of disaster,

My heart and soul burn,

And makes inside stir.

Whirlpool of feeling,

That we suppress,

The mental screaming,

Making wounds so fresh.

We were together,

To love and to share,

It was frail as feather,

Yet we didn’t take care.

Now, we have drifted,

Apart and away,

The tears that had focus shifted,

Have no longer any say.

We turned into,

A You and I,

I wouldn’t be true,

If I say I don’t cry.

By : Sanya Jain

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *