Poetry, Quill

Don’t Blame Yourself.

For the memories that are meant to be forgotten,

When the mind is full of regret and sorrow,

For the 3 AM talks with the moon,

When you think there’s dark everywhere,

There comes a small beam of hope,

The light which becomes brighter as you go nearer to it,

Tears roll down your cheeks,

but this time of not of sorrow but happiness.

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