so i rememberd about a poem i made for a school project a month ago and saw that i didn't seem to share it here, so i opened it, edited it a bit, and posted it here :D
it's quite ironic though, that the part in this poem that i struggled most with is the family part lmao. here's the full poem below !
yearning. such a simple word,
yet holds a cacophony of emotions,
of which leaves a person in disarrayed commotion.
the devastating kind of devotion.
no matter the kind of bond,
it is persistent like a waking dawn.
the evidence of a love that can’t be undone,
as time strides forward, waiting for none.
the feeling often makes you wonder,
if it is a prison of your unsent letters,
or a casket of your rewritten poems,
waiting for a time to be opened.
there is a certain beauty,
in waiting for a love that ended in tragedy,
like a moth to a light bulb,
trying to grasp the warmth before death
there is a kind of death,
with the love that never started,
rotting at the crevices of the heart,
bleeding into the ground, torn apart.
oh to be a lover,
a life-long vow, your eternal supporter,
the one to hold your heart,
even when you’re universes apart.
to yearn for a lover is to ask for a ring,
or a laugh in the middle of spring,
that carries through in the breeze of summer,
and settles as the warmth for winter.
eight billion people in this planet,
yet we found each other at this very moment,
a bond that will never be broken,
and memories that’ll forever be cherished.
to you, whom i call my friend,
may our friendship never end,
even when fights are fought and words were sent,
a simple communication can help it mend.
what makes a family?
a question of varying answers,
yet none are the final answer,
rather, how you define “family” is the closure
personally, family are those who chose to stay,
the guiding light as you wake another day,
even as the ocean currents rages and takes,
they are the steady rocks that held you in place
missing all three is like dying a slow death,
like choking on air, with silence as the witness
as you lay in the stillness of isolation,
the only warmth you’ll feel are their reflections,
it is the devastating kind of devotion,
as it is love that can be abandoned,
not even bargainig can bring back,
what had been taken from your hand.
you cannot grasp something that was never yours to begin with.