Thursday, May 10, 2012

To The Unforunate Past

Nothing consoles me,
You may bring milk to make skin smoother,
Dispense pink roses to show manners,
You can tell me repeatedly
I am unbearable,
Still, nothing turns diamond into rock,
Nothing is innocent to the anticipated reconnection.
I'm not trying to harm your ego,
One learns to speak by speaking,
Soon I'll ignore the pointless brimming,
I may be nice like a pro,
Perhaps smile at the singing birds in the morning,
But it means no advancement to the past affair,
I'm sure you understand this.