The Warmth of Pain
I thought love would never come.So vast, so pure.
I met you, and I learned
That love was not the cure.
It's to depression I shall succumb.
So sad, so lost.
The hatred in my heart burned
And left me cold in winter's frost.
Where are these feelings from?
So alien, so strange.
Now pain makes warmth return.
White is to darken, as normal is to derange.
Poetry by Paul Vermette
Read 440 times
Written on 2008-03-25 at 16:41
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