Every time I meet the wrong person,
I say to myself
Yes! This is it.
This is the true love...
Until
Until
Until
I’m broken into pieces!
Oh wait! Not yet...
Until I am broken again,
Not yet,
Broken again,
And again...
By now i think he is not right,
Only think!
And yet again,
I let him break me
Over and over
again.
Until the trillionth time
And I have nothing left of me;
No clue of the person I was.
And then I decide I am brave and
And I give all my broken pieces
To the not so right person again,
To try and fix me,
To try and find the person I really am of those broken pieces.
But these sharp, edgy, unaltered, broken me,
Hurt everything and everybody who picks
And hence,
The story I am reciting is called,
Unloved!
About the Creator
Chandni Venkatesh
"La poésie est une histoire en soi
N'a pas à rimer
parce que c'est beau de toute façon"
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