Dead Poet [Poem]

I'd write you poetry if my heart was there.

I can't seem to stop thinking of the times before here,

Something's wrong with the future,

The past is upset,

The world is tipping balance but I won't regret.

To fall upon the world,

I'd like to see that,

To cover mountains in my darkness

and the desert with regret.

I'd flood the rivers with my tears, break the dams with my screams,

You are about everything I regret,

But I regret nothing,

I can't.

I can't forget about the times that we spent together,

But as easy as it is to remember,

It is to deny what we once had.

I can easily cast aside my feelings,

Beget the hate and leave regret.

You are nothing that I wanted,

But the emtions that you flourished were but a tempest of a storm.

They were the high glossy sands that encased the storm.

They made it all look so real that

I almost forgot.

I regret nothing,

Your words mean nothing,

The world is but a toy

For my hands to destroy.

I can remember the days we used to spend together.

They're so meaningless now,

there's no point in remembering.

In reality I was the storm

and the fleeting feelings were just the norm,

a façade amongst the reality,

our situation isn't like gravity.

It isn't real.

So let it all fall down,

because I am the storm

and what we had was but half a façade.

[Author Notes]

[December 14, 2012 - I'm trying to recall where I was, what I was doing... What I was thinking to say this. I can only recall one word that comes to mind. 'Mothers' and that is enough for me to know that very well was me expressing my anguish and giving up.]