Inside the four corners of a  room,
where ideas starting to bloom.
Writing a poem dedicated to whom?
To a married woman, not being her groom.

A long time ago you made a promise,
that on the day of the wedding, you'll have your first kiss.
But in just a moment you have miss,
on gripping she began to release. 

Not being there whenever she need,
can change an orchid into a weed.
Finding someone who can serve as a shed, in just a blink you may found them on bed. 

I grab some paper and pen.
And I'll write down some memories from heaven.
Memories that makes our story
A story that has no clarity. 

Writing down this peice Is my way to release
To get away from a bad feeling from the start of the ending.
We started up on a happy lane But why we end up in pain?

You said you will never lie
But why I end up with a cry? 
Yes, you said I am lame But why I only took the blame?
You said you were always there for me But why did you leave me?


~bryanXmissdoreen