there’s a place about which the poets write

a candle burning in the dead of night

life’s epitome: but a sickening height

as a hundred thousand birds take flight

like the words of a story untold

or the ruins of a palace of gold

like a friend you never forgave

like wilted flowers on a grandfather’s grave

i found you

like how a lost child found its home

from the thorns the roses grow

the embers from the fire’s glow

i would have died before letting go

so let the river softly flow

like the very first smile of a newborn

or the stitches which mend something torn

like the rain drenching your hair

like a mother’s unwavering care

i found you

like how a lost child found its home

i guess the poets gave up on me

and set the world on fire with glee

left me, unwantedly free

with smoke being all that i could see

now i’m the lost child you left behind

i thought we were perfectly aligned

and though i wish we could rewind

and relive our fingers intertwined

i loved you when i didn’t know what love meant

and though it wasn’t time misspent

young hearts broke on dried cement

we hurt, we healed, and now we’re fine

but i remember when you were mine