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and all that could have been
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a small amount of potential here is the end of something that could have been sweet
welcome to a vast wasteland
opportune moments strewn as far as the eye can see
you cannot escape the emptiness
once more it passes by
and i regret my choices
the sour taste of a bitter heart
is what i have reaped from my loneliness
and lack of life
Do you realize that there doesn't seem to be a single poem that you write that isn't great? Why is that? I don't understand. Even the ones I can't relate with, they just sound.. spectacular. And so, I reach for the stars, knowing full well they're millions of miles away.