It's going to leave my heart devastated, I know.
And I can't stop but smile because honey, the choice is,
either to let go, or move along with this never ending flow.
I know, I will have to live half a heart.
The curves on your tiny lips, it makes me smile.
I love all your imperfections, but your voice is my favorite part.
Makes me wanna rhyme words and write, it's crazy!
I seriously doubt it's gonna help me get to you,
These pessimistic thoughts, every morning it gets me all hazy.
I would never blame you to make my life such a mess.
Maybe you'd give me a chance, maybe you'd try to love me.
The only thing is, it's hard, it gets harder everyday to confess.
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Comments about this poem (This love by Sapekshya Timilsina )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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