Pensive|

I still remember when we first met You were 13 and I was 12 You were moving in to your new house You were our new neighbors I later learned That time I came home from school You were standing at the door carrying a box You were wearing blue skirts to your knees You look to me as I stand briefly on the street at the front of our house You smiled but I creep out inside Never had a pretty face smiled to me I wanted to speak and say hello but decided against it and went inside the house instead Out of fear I say stupid and embarrassed myself The next day though we became officially friends You really made the effort to make friends and not me Through the years we still remain friends But it's not the same as it used to be You are now living overseas to fullfil your dreams While I stay in the country and still looking for myself You were my first crush and you knew it well I told it to you the year later we met I never courted you though because I don't want to ruin our friendship, And I have a haunch you don't feel the same thing with me As you keep telling me I was like a younger brother to you as you are an only child Yeah yeah I kind of understand it all But still it kinda hurts Knowing you like someone but the feeling isn't mutual But we gotta be tough, right? This isn't the end I know it well We're both young, a lot could happen Wether we end up become lovers or maybe not I only hope our friendship still remains I hope it'll last forever This will be all Hope you don't find it weird I just misses you so much so here it is That's all and I wish you are always safe #review#poem#openforcretics #I'llsendittosomeonespecialtome #kidlycorrectforgrammars #andopenforsuggestions #thankyou

#review#yourreview#sm#i’mABrokenMan I’m a broken man don’t know who to trust. Being a broken man allows you not to trust. I’m a broken man with lots of blood, bleeding from the heart like a river. Being a broken man helps people raft on the red stream And they don’t give a damn, whether you die in shiver The moon is the only friend who acknowledges my tears. Stars, like a bodyguard help me fight out my fears. But sun, sometimes behaves as a foe for his rays of light, focuses me to reach my actual height. Nevertheless, I’m a broken man. Broken down piece by piece by the sword, of the goddess of beauty sharpened up with innocence, cunning ferocity. Never even cared, if I’m happy or sad, wouldn’t even matter if I’m alive or dead. I’m a broken man, who knows how to fix the glasses. But, being a broken man, There comes a why. Why even bother , rebuilding it. Everything broken down into bits and pieces. And so am I.