What was the last thing I created?

Well, if you consider writing a form of creating, than that would be the last thing I created. I enjoy writing very much, I write almost every day. Whether it is just a thought in my head or a poem. I write. Here is the last thing I wrote:

Untitled:

Untitled:

It took her a year to want to be with me
And now she can’t even stand to see the sight of me

I don’t blame her, I fell hard to the ground
Standing up harder, then I frown
Wishing I was stronger back then
How easy it could’ve been to amend
And now I have nothing to amend
Because she doesn’t want to see me again

The only times I cry is when I miss my friend
She was my friend and even more than a friend
My heart is broken over the pieces that I broke
I broke two hearts in this game of a choke
Why did I say, “No more games?”
When the only game I was playing was this love game

Oh, how I wish I could turn back time
To own up to all of my crimes
To a woman who is completely sublime
And who I could spend with in my lifetime

I wish I knew her even more deeper
Rather than falling in steeper
Over our shoulders breathed Grim Reaper
Telling me to kill what’s a keeper
What’s a keeper when I felt like a creeper?
She was a keeper and still is my keeper
When I don’t listen to the words of the Reaper
I do believe she is my soul peacekeeper

But also, Baby, I’m not a mind reader
Some things I don’t just get without a speaker
I know that’s where I blew it all out of proportion
An easy question or simple thought can fix a notion

But I get it’s just too late now
To get that second chance somehow
To hold holds and just believe
That we can stay sane and not want to leave
And I do believe we can believe
I saw you starting to achieve
To believe me and believe us is such a grieve
Cause I saw it with my own eyes but I chose to mislead

You were trying so hard with me
Only a week and I was such a deceive
I didn’t want to hear what caused me to be a peeve
I didn’t want to see what you were saying to conceive
And now I’m here left at an aggrieve
Not sure even if you had to grieve
In all fairness I believe I shouldn’t receive
The woman I want because I don’t deserve to be redeemed

No matter how much it hurts she’s not in my life
I miss her and everything, even our strife
Because she taught me exceedingly
Without her, I wouldn’t have grown so increasingly

I’ve read books about how to become a better “Me”
With being “Me” at a level that’s appealingly, Extraordinarily, understandingly admirable
All I can say is you were right, I was predictable
Prediction of damage, I wish I could return
I never want to hurt people but I hurt you, and that’s something to learn
Why I always chose to fail to be the better “Me”
Rather than to cease all doubts over the power of what’s lovely

Oh, God, I miss her smell, I miss her hair, I miss her eyes that look into my soul
I miss the butterflies that filled up my hole
I still get butterflies in my heart when the thoughts get tough
With the thoughts of her but that’s not nearly enough

I miss the way she would look at me indefinitely
I miss the way she would hold me endlessly
I miss the way she walks swayingly
I miss the way she talks distinctively
I miss the way she smiles and laughs peculiarly
I miss the way she dances carelessly
I miss the way she is uniquely
The way she was hand in hand mine to call, especially

It took me only four months to fall in love with her
And now I’m waiting patiently to see her.

Link to my written words:whereikeepmypoems.wordpress.com

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