August 21st, 2008
the bard inside the surgery room takes my photo
when im at loss for words
i resort to poetry
or something that resembles one
like at this moment
when fate decides that i see you
which is weird
i dont believe in fate
the root of my hiatus
stares at me through a camera
which somehow shades off the signiture smirk
that i both love and hate
love and hate
present tense
your camera is the metaphor
for every hellish night that surged back
the soul of every cigarette wasted
haunts me with evenescence
as you take my photo
but absence makes the heart forget
or does it?
Posted by madiraka429_bs at 09:12 PM | wanna say it?