Posted in Poetry

Love in My Pocket

One day I stumbled upon Love on a street,
looking sad and lying still.
I took it and kept it my pocket,
not knowing it has a life and will.

While I was walking with a pace,
with a stupid smile on my face,
Love starts crawling out of my pocket,
and jumping off the jacket.

As I arrived home to take care of Love,
I realized Love was nowhere to be seen.
I look to my left and right, down and above,
All I could see was walls that were green.

I sat down and wept,
and mourning Love as I slept.
I thought Love was for me to be kept.
But instead, it made me feeling left.

It saddened me so much,
for it to happen as such.
Love doesn’t want to be with me.
Love has never belonged to me.

— Nat

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