Erika’s Picture Poetry #1

phj

Love,

A thing so illusive,

So fictive.

How does it feel to be handed a rose?

A sign of passion,

Of devotion.

How does it feel to be held?

Like you’re everything,

And he’d be left with nothing.

I confess that I am scared,

Of heartache before I’ve experienced love.

Scared Of being broken before I fall.

I confess that I am scared,

Of the end before the sun rises.

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Miedjel’s Poetry

great love

I remember the first time you said you love me,

I knew at that time you truly did. I didn’t think twice when you said those three sacred words.

I just believed.

I didn’t have to see the sincerity in your eyes,

the truth in your voice,

every gentle touch.

I just knew you did.

I just believed, cause I loved you too.

But I also remember when you left,

the confusion,

the hole in my heart,

the anger,

the sadness,

the thought that maybe you just needed space,

but then you never came back.

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