Perhaps
It is too late.
Time, fleetingly, passes on.
Grudgingly
I tread,
Leaving it all behind.
You reach out
Only in vain,
For this journey, I must make alone.
Slivers of happiness
Wisps of memories
Dance around me, in the warm summer air.
Tempted
I touch the tiniest bubble of hope.
It bursts.
Slowly,
Stealthily,
The truth comes crashing down.
And I know
It’s too late to forgive,
I have to forget
For this journey, I must make alone.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
It's a nice poem. Thanks for sharing it.
::sukku
http://blogger-sukku.blogspot.com/
nice. very expressive
nice poem.....would love to c u visit my food blog and give ur comments.
belo poema!
Gosto muito de poesia também!
really good work...i'm an amateur poet myself,and i loved the way you put this across...
good one...
nithin(evincere.blogspot.com)
thanks....!
Post a Comment