Written with the trace of tears;
Every layers of words
Crafted with metaphors
Magnificently appeared as
a poetry showing off what was ours
You and I are only good on your pictures
Aesthetically taken;
Glimpse of comfortable silence
Frozen in a split-second moment
The smile in our eyes are blinding
the things our lips can’t let out
We are good together at hiding it
Little did they know,
I always write about pain and
Your photographs are only left as a memory
Of every former agony
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