A poet writes poems like a writer writes stories
They are always a million times apart but still the same
A poet has a million words to say so does a writer
But they can never really say instead they write till they can't breathe again
They wished, they dreamed of a world far from the reality they live in Their imagination can't be understood by all but only by some
Who have been to the untouchable world once
People call them crazy some maniac who can't really do anything but starve
Yes they do starve; they crave for the love they write between the characters
They wanted the same love, chemistry and events to unfold in their own life
But no one to love, no one really understands the type of love they craved for
They leave parts of themselves in the form of characters or poems they cannot complete
They leave themselves incomplete like their characters so that they don't feel alone
They feel, they create a new reality, where nobody can find them
YOU ARE READING
Dead Souls She Ones Loved
PoetryThe sky tuned red. The sun sinking deeper into the core of the ocean. The black curling in while the yellow disappeared behind the massive blue. She felt numb, feeling herself deep under water. The dying sun's final rays falling on her reached out h...
