Pictures from then

This poem described to me the memories in which I believed that waiting for a person could last indefinitely. Unfortunately, I realized that I had to continue my life without him.

How can I tell you
That I don't care what you do,
Who are you talking to,
Why are you reacting wrong,
How can you get over anything,
When I stay here
Alone.

I don't even want to think
What's on your mind,
So tangled
Which I won't be able to read
Not in a thousand years,
As much as I would like.

I look at the pictures
In which I laughed with you,
But now I don't recognize myself.
I wish I didn't care anymore,
But my attempts
Have no results.

Memories are chained together
Like an infinite string,
In which everything is unique
And unnatural,
Where I lose you
Among those smiles,
From the pictures from then.

Author's Note

Your favorite strophe is...

Reviews

[Picasso]

You bring so much humanness to your poems and I really love the rawness!

[bianca]

Thank you so much, Picasso! Everything I write is based on my memories and feelings.

[Neville]

Its easy to look back and think wow, was that really me ................. sometimes though, those wows are really arrghs and ouches .. I enjoyed this particular introduction to your writing my friend :)

[bianca]

You've made my night. Thank you so much, Neville! Nice to meet you.

[Neville]

and the very same to you my friend :)

[Chris]

There is no hindsight while you live it ...and after being crushed you don't WANT to see.

But if you ever had a chance to consciously CHOOSE this ..."it" (this happening for our sense)... for ourselves - you KNOW we would. That is part and parcel of the person we are.