The Fate of Love

in poem •  5 years ago 

Once solitude has now become loneliness
Whenever I hear the Enfield whirring
Deep down, could feel the heart stirring
My room is dark and bereft of color
And the house is tidy, for you not here to mess
I don’t do much progress, for you not here to caress
I look pale; ’cause the relationship has become stalecropped-img_20180923_123746.jpg

poem poetry englishpoems poetrywriting poet
5 years ago by

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