Abstract

weheartit

I'm trying,
But am I succeeding
In living this life,
Made of ashes.
Memories
Of the fire
That once
Burnt inside.

Perhaps
When I die,
I will understand
The sweet irony
Of life.
That perhaps,
I tried
To own the sky,
When I already
Owned the land.

The land
I can feel,
The land
I can sense
With every
Part of my being.
Unlike the sky,
An illusion
Of light and water.

But today,
I need not die.
Tomorrow,
I need not want
Yesterday.

I titled this abstract, because it was an abstract poem. I don't even remember writing it.