A poetic journey through my mind

Pockets

In the pocket of my jacket there’s a check that I must cash,
in the pocket of my blue jeans there’s a note that I must trash,
in the locket round my neck there is a photo torn in two,
and on my heart there burns a message that was written there by you.

These words that you wrote to me, where they all your very own,
or where they written by a robot with a heart made out of stone,
did you really mean to hurt me, was this just another game,
and if I ask you once again, now, will your answer be the same?

In my dreams we build a tower, I watched it as it crashed,
of my life you made a garden, and now it’s all been smashed,
you say that I have hurt you, can’t you see you hurt me too,
please don’t say goodbye to me now, while I’m still in love with you.

7 responses

  1. WOW! nicely expressed… love is great. Thanks and Love, nia

    April 8, 2012 at 4:10 pm

  2. sad.

    April 8, 2012 at 4:48 pm

  3. artblablablablog

    I know that guy!

    April 8, 2012 at 5:16 pm

    • KC

      *laughs* Yeah, and I know that girl…18-20 is such an angsty age.

      April 8, 2012 at 5:20 pm

  4. Beautiful and sentimental and genuinely spoken/written!

    April 8, 2012 at 6:41 pm

  5. Oh, yes. At the age of 19 I once wore scissors round my neck as a necklace after a break-up (and all black for mourning, of course). You recapture that young girl’s voice so well!

    April 9, 2012 at 3:05 pm

  6. Oh, the picture torn in two should not be hastiful discarded: no, it shouldn’t!

    April 16, 2012 at 1:40 pm

Talk to me, people! ;)

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