My first poetry in a long time -___-
I don't know what got me into writing poetry now.
Any critiques?
Ima still rusty... blah.
Something Called Love
Our conversation
Began like this: tell me if
you shall and will, the
the secrets of the world, the whole
universe itself.
Your response, reply:
I would tell you my dear, should
I have an answer.
Alas, give me some time, and
I promise to tell.
How did it come to
this: with your dying breath, half
a life-span later,
the world as old as we are,
as old as the world, we were -
That you hold my hands
In your withered grip, time-worn
Hands, and whisper to
me, "I'm sorry, I have failed
you... failed, you can see."
Shush, I say, shush, but
You cannot hear me; you are
already gone, gone -
though, you did leave me something:
something I call... love.