This is the first poem I really spent time on, would love to hear your thoughts.
|When the running waters of the black river
Fade slowly away.
And the world becomes brighter.
When the far away figures
And your smile still isn't there.
Running on the scratching pavement.
Running on the fallen trees.
Running on the things I don't have.
Running towards the fading figures
I see what I don't have.
I don't have the feeling
Of the thing that builds up.
The thing you don't see
The thing I can't understand
The thing no one can understand.
This I don't have.
This I can't.
It isn't real.
When the heart ache begin to spread
and the feeling boils up.
But its not real.
Its what I search for.
Its what I cry for.
Its what I beg for.