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The End Of Our Story

This thing we share
Has brought me to insanity
If this here is love
I think we invented a mental disorder

At times I fall for the fairy tales we used to tell
Now I think about the hours I wasted on dreaming
And it makes me want to break all my mirrors
See, everybody knew I loved you with my heart and soul
If you couldn’t see that then I can recommend an optometrist

What’s the point in saying I love you
Sheesh, all it gave me was hope and no action
I’m living on ten thousand tanks of hope
How about some soul searching
I looked through mine and it was missing you

We played cupid’s game like two birds in one nest
I think his dart broke before it hit your heart
Sorry are my words to vivid for you
Well. Then you want to trade for my nightmares

Yes, this kind of poetry puts me in a new light
I guess it’s better than living in utter darkness
Here’s a thought free of charge
If you want out of this physcotic affair
Walk out the door and don’t you look back
Don’t worry about me
Just learn how to count your regrets

Editing stage: 

Comments

These lines really moved my heart

What’s the point in saying I love you
Sheesh, all it gave me was hope and no action
I’m living on ten thousand tanks of hope
How about some soul searching
I looked through mine and it was missing you

Mona Rose

im glad your ok your in my prayers

author comment

Thanks Paul
There is a mess but what came out on TV not true.

http://new.neopoet.com/node/2561

much love and respect

Mona Rose

I love it. It's.... honest. It's not embellished with fancy shmancy words, it's just honestly what you think, and I love that. Top to bottom, love it.

----------------------------
maverick |ˈmav(ə)rik|
noun
1 an unorthodox or independent-minded person

is what the soul dabbles in

author comment

in any of your previous work.
Dabbles?
A poet's soul either floats or drowns in honesty.
Which one is this? (that was rhetorical, I know the answer).

I'm really appreciating the increased use of colloquialism, it brings it home. I feel it.
The line-
I’m living on ten thousand tanks of hope
feels weird. 10,000 tanks of hope petrol for the journey?

Sorry are my words to vivid for you
[Sorry are my words too vivid for you?]

That last line is either bloody brave or arrogant!
Just learn how to count your regrets

Fuckin ace, mate, as we say over here.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

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