Just wish I could tell you
Just wish I could tell who
But you wouldn't understand
So I cry and let your hand
I wish I could show it now
I only wish I knew how
But you wouldn't hear my word
Flustered heartbeats, never heard
You sure know I need you
You were keeping me alive
Always
I can't help I love you
I need you to help survive
All days
I wish I could tell you why
Wish I wouldn't have to lie
But not a word you'd believe
These bounds I can't relieve
I wish I could find a way
To let you know, make you say
Wish you could just make me see
Love is such a vanity
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Who am I?
- Lone Poet
- Who am I? It's a question I ask myself time to time. I've come up with different names for myself. I was a preacher, I was a king, I was Misery Incarnate... but eventually I'm no more and no less than a lone poet, buried alive, waiting to be excavated. To be loved. I live for the moment when everything is all right.
That's all folks
- My poetry (28)
- in Hungarian (9)
- Drebbles (5)
- by my Flame of Inspiration (1)
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5 comments:
Love is a doomride, impulsions of living and...
Again I can only says that we are one. I'm in the same state caused by almost the same reason.
I don't know how can it be the same situation, because I honestly didn't tell about these feelings to anyone, and I never will. It's a thing nobody would understand, even she wouldn't. However, I know you kinda feel what I feel... we've been to places, we've seen our chances...
Well, I don't mind on the chances, I never did that... Chances are for the casuals. We are not casuals. BTW I will try to make my dream come true, BUT I even don't feel that it will be long... long enough... enough for what? The real question is: What kind of dream is equal to the pain what a brokening heart cause?
A hellish nightmare.
omg... another amazong poem, i relate completely
the fool title
every atanza
every line
every word
love is such a vanity
i dont know how to explain, i love it
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