I often wonder why,
good memories make me cry.
Like raindrops lost in time,
frozen tears with little shine.
Salty lips of bitter taste.
This is where it comes and rests
With a prancing of the tongue,
I hold it back before its sung.
As it trickles down my heart,
until death do us apart.
I hope I never die
good memories make me cry.
Ah! I wonder too why good memories make us sad at some point in life..
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by. This was an early, rather novice attempt at romanticism. If you notice I have expressed a deluded hope of attaining immortality. This is because, it is my belief that all unhappiness in life stems from the fear of death. So, once liberated from the trepidation of impending death, one becomes eternally happy and hence immortal.
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