stuck in bad luck

Poems are like shit, especially when you try them to be full of rhymes, of course there must be a rhythm sometimes, but this is what actually makes them such lovely, if all of your heart is telling them truly, and not being forced by stylistic devices, they’ll lead you into some poetry’s crisis, only, you’ll know that, once try this.

I hate to create those rhymes like that, they’re simple and silly and imperfect, but – I’m at the end of all my ideas, to show you my feelings, my wishes, my fears.

I loved you so much, deeply inside, I’m honest, I cannot just hide, and I suffer from knowing you do not do right, you don’t give a fuck, but you loved me one night.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Sleeping in dirt, that’s what I’ve heard, you’re free like a bird : )

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