Dewdrops And The Truth

Dewdrops And The Truth short poem

Photo by vtsr

Only a few can understand the melancholy of the Moon
That shines different and lonely among countless stars
But the flowers are always sad in the sunrise, sprinkled with tears
After listening all the painful secrets.

On this huge chaos that is life
I’m beyond lost
I can’t walk, or breath, or talk
And if smiles are the habitual lies
That we tell in silence
Then, poetry is the truth we write
So I’ll fill these lines
Until Autumn comes and blow them to the wind
Or until a sleep without dreams
Until I be found by the hands of the Time
And finally my words dry
Or the paint of my pen.

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