NaPoWriMo Day#18: Write a poem which begins and ends with the same word
Somehow, I like to think that if you knew
How much your decisions would hurt me
And confine me to a life devoid
Of happiness, where I could only exist,
And never live, or love, would you
Have been so thoughtless? Somehow
I like to hope that you would have
Acted differently, though I know
Very well that you wouldn’t have.
Still, if you knew how much
I drowned my sorrow in my pillow,
and in the lonely stars in the sky,
Or the crowded streets were I roamed
To feel lost, and yet to feel belonged
Would you have at least treated me
A little better?
I like to think so,
Otherwise there will be no reason
For me to keep loving you.
So, I think better of you
Than what you actually are.
It keeps me from turning bitter somehow.