PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It's amazing how much comes back to you at 2 in the morning, sitting there alone with nothing else alive, just an air of death about the place that settles in the quite cold from outside. Tears fall from the face for sorrows of the past never wept for. Each drop falling as loud as the cosmos, a million little sprays spreading out from it upon the world. I go through the motions, putting on the mask of life, but truely I know when I'm alone, I've been dead inside for a while.



Why do I lie to myself on those warm sunny days, why do I try to pretend I enjoy things that used to bring happiness. I simply do not know why I go through the motions any more, and yet by dawn I will know not what wrote here I did. The tears do fall ever more ever thicker, slowly staining cheek and floor, forever pain, nothing more. Silence falls the wind no sound. A heart is dead and I judge me unforgiven.