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Love on The Street
I see Love holding hand,
Down the selfish street,
The heart beat, the pain remain,
Even the passion shrinks to seize it,
Leave a poor idea of joy,
Which they share incessantly,
Have life spare each second of temptation?
Would they tire of a happy ending?
It’s like living in a land of fantasy,
Where a traitor and a liar never been born,
Where tears compensate happiness instead,
Where I can’t even afford the excitement,
How could fragile dream could earn much pleasure?
Would it survive the sight of nothingness?
When it had nothing to put on?
I run out of faith to repress the desire,
A deep scratch in a sacred vow haunted me,
Why all the sense melts to an intense kiss?
How could a cheap trick could buy a dignity?
Not a tiny light should enter an engaged soul,
I had prefer to set the love free to be belong,
As to treasure a slight of it would lit the flame,
Would it forgive the way I bruise myself?
Could I forget the way it shade and fade?
But the time erased all the mark abruptly,
As I see love holding hand down the selfish street
poem
by
Niken Kusuma Wardani
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