I Used To Be A Poet

i used to be a poet
i used to write from love and desire
i used to know the exact shade of his eyes 
i used to cry for few days
during the snowfall
or during the storm
sun never shined upon my dreams 
and they sure were full of fears
it was no history nor love
it was a tragedy of a broken soul
it may have a beginning but there's no end
cause i still dream about his lips
of his arms holding my wrist
and there was a desire
could it ever be love?
i may not be fond of romantic stories
but i wish i had at least one for my own
just for my body and for my heart to be filled with some joy
for its heart to be loved before it lays for forever in the cold
and i used to love
i used to care
i used to know every date our eyes have met
i used to wish every night he'll comeback 
or i'll be gone
but i don't care
not anymore
i used to be a poet 
i used to write stories
i may have forgotten dates
i may have convinced myself that way
but that was yesterday 
now it's a different day
and tommorrow never shows your fate

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