Phantom Ache
They were never there
but I was straying somewhere
Where I shouldn't be
I met those things I can't even see
I looked into those eyes
they broke something inside
That wasn't there to begin with
lost before I discovered it
Why do I still miss
The feelings I never had, people I don't know
Things that don't exist
How can I have this pain
this haunting phantom ache
The next one I wrote few days ago after a rather long pause. I haven't had much time to write poems or do much anything since my working hours kind of suck and I haven't been very energetic.
Market of Used Goods
Stood on the shelf hardly touched
Behind the New Arrivals, gathering dust
Finally my polish wore off,
leaving no story behind my scuffs
Too old to be new,
discarded as no good for use
The prices are higher for vintage,
here come them who look for something epic
In a place filled with history,
you're worthless without a story
What is a sealed package in a second-hand store?
Trash
So I'm only stumbling on the floor
In the market of used goods,
where I was brand new
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