They tell us, "Follow the lines, colour inside the cage, Don’t speak too loud, don’t burn with rage." But what if the lines were never mine? What if I want to dance to a rhythm that is mine? Born into a script, not a story I wrote, Chained to beliefs they tattoo on my throat.

In the quiet dusk, my heart does weep, For love once held, now lost in deep. A fleeting touch, a whispered plea, Gone like the wind, yet haunting me.

Beneath the moon’s soft silver glow, I trace the paths where we used to go. Your laughter lingers in the breeze, A bittersweet ghost that never leaves.

A single tear, the night does claim, As memories burn like a silent flame. In the shadows, my voice still sings, A song of love on broken wings.

In the fading light, I call your name, A whispered hope, a lover’s flame. Yet all that echoes is the past, A fragile dream that could not last.

The stars above, they softly weep, For promises we couldn’t keep. And in the quiet, I remain, A soul adrift in endless pain.

#micropoetry, #poetry

Tonight is a sad night... #micropoetry #poetry