We write things we don't understand,
We write about the feelings erupting inside,
The story behind every smile,
The sadness behind every tear,
We write about the things that keep us awake late at night,
And the things that awake us from a deep slumber,
We are not only poets but story tellers as well.

*Of our own daily life, write more, express more and hurt less.

I spoke icily,
Only because I'm hurting,
The sky exploded.

The time I spent,
Wishing for more,
It's now to repent,
For the times I felt roar.

To be by your side,
I think of nothing else,
Only to reside,
And be my only self.

Let the love be forever,
And learn the way of the heart,
Where everything gives for never,
Like a single piece of art.

We knew it won't last,
But we kept decieving,
Regrets that run fast,
Through the veins of reviving.

I wish, but there's no turning back...