This is the last poem I’ll write about you—
The truth you spoke was wrapped in silken threads,
Each word a promise I wanted to believe,
But it was nothing more than a bittersweet lie.
You painted love with colours I couldn’t see,
Made me think the sky had turned a deeper blue,
But the shades you showed me were never real,
Just illusions in a dream I thought we shared.
I held on to the warmth of your deceit,
Clung to the hope that flickered in your eyes,
But the light was never meant for me,
A fading glow that left me in the cold.
Now, as I close this chapter for the last time,
I see the truth beneath your crafted lies,
And though it burns, this pain will set me free—
For you were never the love you pretended to be.
Laeeq Orrie, 18 year old South African Poet
Ink from my heart, bled upon paper