>The Saddest Poem

>I go about things,
like I do, when all is fine,
and life is what it used to be,

Nothing out of the ordinary,
no pockets of pregnant silence,
no laments, no confessions.

Life flows like it did,
before we met,
the surface is calm.

But my surface shrouds a depth.
in this private womb,
flourishes the darkness,
of a screaming pain.

One sunny day,
when the air is scented,
and the birds are chirping,
my knees will crumble,
and I shall weep.

A poem by Pablo Neruda Inspired the writer into writing this fragment of poetry, It can be found here: The Saddest Poem


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