The End

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The End

The world stopped turning,

My heart beat its last.

One kiss, oh so long ago…

How it hurts to see the past.

 

I wish that I could tell you,

All those words I’ve never said.

I wish I could let you in,

Into the constant chaos in my head.

  

All my thoughts of life…

And death, it’s all the same.

Without misery and heartache,

Happiness would have no one to blame.

  

I think upon my actions,

And act upon my thoughts.

If only I could pick you apart,

But I don't know what that would cost.

  

I think about my conscience,

These choices, right and wrong.

I think about time passing,

About summers now long gone.

  

I think about the answers,

I know I’ll never know.

I think about these feelings,

It would hurt more to let them go.

 

But most of all I wonder,

About this thing they call the end.

Does life just cease to exist,

Or does something else begin?

  

Without hope I would be lost,

But there’s nothing I can do.

For in this crazy world of mine,

Thinking only leads to you.

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In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

AKLorant’s Poems (8)

Title Comments
Title Comments
We Are Broken 0
Power of Words 1
Journey of a Weary Heart 0
The End 0
Feels Good to Know the Answer 0
The Only Way 1
Unstable 0
Moving On 0

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