My life, as empty as the echo in my heart, as sad as my soul in the shadow of your absence, lonely as my cold hands resting on echother, hurt and disappointed as the silence of my mouth.
With hurted and begging eyes I face the world which is just turning me such as cold. The world is too small for me, wherever I turn I'm taking too much space. The world is too big for me, wherever I go I'm always alone. Sometimes you found what makes you happy. Sometimes you can reach the good part in life. But too often it disappears too quickly, too often that hurts too much.
You're searching and fumbling in darkness, you trip over and over again and the wounds get deeper and deeper, You can hardly feel fysical pain. Now that I've found a meaning of being happy, then why can't I be so? Is it that you're happy if you want to be?
Why do I find it so hard to find a meaning in giving love. Why do I hate the surroundings for not giving me the love I need.
( please comment, if not, just leave a vote! I would very much appretiate it! This poem such as very few other poems means everything to me. Please do me this favor, it's not much asking for, I will return the favor. thank you very much! // Love joyo )
