my life as a poem
There you go trying to turn problems into poetry,
Speaking of compassion from time to time,
Comparing your life to what it isn’t and could not be.
Filling in between the lines what was implied.
Metaphors for the pain we have inflicted,
Ambiguously creating patterns.
The rhythm in which we run and hide
but still, the verses are all that matters.
oh, if feelings were only words..
but emotion is yet a single concept.
This is your poem and I am yours
then my only gift is this worthless sonnet.
There you go trying to turn problems into poetry,
Comparing your life to what it isn’t and could not be.
