There was a foolish child of hope in my mind.
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He was very naughty, though he was sweet and kind.
He was running and playing, breaking every vase picturing the reality.
Trying to stop him as a cold and experienced, but caring father,
I decided to explain him, this is an impossible desire.
I tried to explain him the bitter truth furnished with lies.
When he didn't listen, my despair lost his temper,
yelled and swore, and filled his mouth with pepper.
When you pitied me to not say that you don't love me.
When you pitied me to not say that you don't even like me.
I looked into the vacancy where my heart used to be in,
and found the hate I nursed and grew for a long time within.
Nothing could help me looking into your eyes, to tell you,
the nonsense, false phrase of I don't love you,
so I opened my hand and asked for his help to tell you,
the nonsense, false phrase of I don't love you.
But he poured coming out of me suddenly
I couldn't stop him, he came out crushingly.
He told you secrets which shouldn't have been told.
He had not learn anything but hate and how to be cold.
He shut my ears and closed my eyes to tell you,
the nonsense and false phrase of I don't love you.
The schizophrenia devil took the control,
whipping me and stabbing me by his long sword,
I tried to stand the pain I received, from every true or false word.
He said them with all his evil powers, to make you hate me even more.
No! I haven't cut and picked any flower before you.
I had been cut before, I had learned the pain.
How can I disturb any flower by a touch? I can never dare to.
Let alone cutting, picking or destroying.
No! no flower in the world can smell the way you do.
If this is love then what I have felt before was not true.
Don't be deceived by this sad mask I wear when I see you.
It's because your smile is so simple, amazing and powerful,
full of life pure and free, flying like a bird.
It puts mine into a shame.
I want to smile back at you though I can't.
Funny or not I can't tell, but I hear the laughter of my heart in your pocket,
when I see you trying to wash it by your tickles in your shiny treasure bucket.
But now, that the innocent child is punished, scared sitting in a corner,
This makes the reality and most of all the pain for me even much bitter.
Note: Please read this poem and tell me how does it make you feel. give your opinion, and tell me if the title is not fit. Any suggestion is welcomed.