Spoiler
I wrote this today. This poem was a "spur of the moment" kind of thing; I quite literally woke up and just wrote it. So, critics, try and not be too harsh? Haha.
Maybe I’m just beating a dead horse,
Maybe I’m looking at a starless night;
Searching for answers in all the wrong places,
Because a part of me just wants to know if you’re doing alright.
But I know you won’t answer,
When in your opinion, I am just beneath the surface.
Maybe I still think of you,
Maybe I’m not afraid to resurrect your ghost;
Playing with fire, but disregarding the burns,
Because the very thought of you has me engrossed.
But I know you won’t shed a thought,
When in your mind, I am just beneath the surface.
Maybe I didn’t want you to go,
Maybe I regret for having held open the door for you;
Wishing now to burn back the sun,
Because you’re something I’ll always hold on to.
But I know you’d be more than happy to see me gone,
When in your life, I am just beneath the surface.
2011 Vincent Cuccolo
