• shyaryaa 38w

    Last Poetry

    No beauty of sky defined.
    No depth of love spoken.
    No expectations expected.
    No reality checked.
    Just a cluster of words, un arranged and rhyme scheme un touched.
    Messy with feelings,
    My last poetry will be.

    It will have special mentiones,
    The one without him,
    The one without reason!
    The one being preplex.
    The one being just the way its should end.
    My last poetry will be.

    ┬ęshyaryaa