Of the Poem i Write.Again.

Not my best work yet.But hell,haha.Who cares.Random scribbling,quoted from Timothy Harries.;)

At the airport within my heart,
I waved goodbye,pierced by a dart.
A smile,blended with a sigh,
"She loves you not!"says the signs.

The words i spoke,the passport to hell.
Why did i say that?Even time cannot tell.
I said,"Write me when you get there."
She smiled,but never cared.

Your plane took off.
I watched,and my eyes already sore.
Through the glasses,you flew away,
Reflection of me says,"Yeah,you made it this way."

So it was me,who conjured this act.
It is also me,who cannot contain this fact.
Please stop saying,"I told you."
For i loved her so,didnt you too?

If love exists,nothing else mattered.
But i am the soldier in a battle,torn and battered.
I shouldve known,i mightve known.
Cold and emotionless,those your eyes shown.

Now that you are in the distant land,
Leaving me here,with cold strikened hand.
Thinking back,it was me all along.
Havent thought that way,so very long.

Secrets revealed,questions answered.
Why did you leave?I am not concerned.
The unknown ahead,the past behind.
The road under,with you inside.

Nothing but a memory,but one that i wish to keep.
Bittersweet they are,though they make me weep.
We know that life is imperfect,
But thats what makes life,perfect.