Thought Of My Poetry

I thought you are a piece of poetry when I first saw you. I saw your lips moving up and down in motion. I have forgotten what were those words.

You were a poem that was originally intended to be sung. My poetic imagination gave you a form and a shape and made you a garden where all the butterflies were flying and spreading their colors. Dangerous, what they’ve warned me about you.

For people, I was a low born. I was sentenced to imprisonment of my own darkness. Oh, how bright your light was! I was again a captive but this time it was in love.

Sympathy was given to me. Your willingness to forgive me made the chaos calm down that I was carrying for most of my life. It is our compassion that made us create the home that we had then.

I was drowned in your ocean of kindness. But how Can one keep loving someone who only sees one with pity in their eyes? a definition-less melancholy took over the heart. When love becomes imposing an obligation then it starts to slip away from our hands.

Was it a duty? why was I running away? why did I want to run away? I lost my sense of right and wrong. You made an excuse of career and I pretended to be diligent. Our cultivated land of gold was no more.

I attract pain and curse wherever I go. By means fair or foul we always leave. We live a half-life and call it moving on. Mind-numbing massacre kills the garden, kills the air that we breathe in. I was just a girl searching for my own peace of mind.