I know the ‘WHYs’ that precede your tears:
Brace up, you’re not the first!
I know that sigh, that silence:
It reminds me you wish I’m there.
I know how ‘I love you’ ends:
Talk of recycled tales.
I know you now regard me less:
You got the jewel. So what’s left?
I know you think it’s useless:
Don’t give up, it’s just a fleeting process.
I know genuine sorrow, friends:
Sun dry your crocodile tears.
I know the peace of death:
Goodbye is just a recess.
I know the cramps of ink fest:
I’m just a menstruating poetess.
I know the stench of emotional mess:
blame the wanton goddess.
I know that crowd moment,
when one feels rather friendless.
I know the schedule of eternity Godless:
Time for burning is endless.
I know the guile of pretense:
just when did I lose my essence?
I know the stain of greases:
makes saints of gypsies.
I know the weight of crosses:
Leaves one between heaven and abyss.
I know perilous times:
They peel away smiles.
I know the pang of weakness:
It pricks like an eternal illness.
I know the taste of sweetness:
of course, she left me tasteless.
I know the sound of sadness:
It groans in silence.
You know, God knows our hearts aches:
He promised. He won’t fail.
Eureka will soon rent the air.
Only this, I know not when.
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