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This poem sends less than a hundred tears,
For someone whom I’m loving from afar,
To whom I hold solely and dearest,
To the reason this pen battles in an invisible war.

As the words flow, so as this unrequited feeling,
For a long time accompanied by an unbearable misery,
The pain caused by overthinking,
Of whether I should stop this delusional mediocrity.

I can’t count how many times I’m tempted,
To take down my armour and just surrender,
Give out all my poems to this beloved,
Then leave swiftly, giving him something to ponder.

Up All Night

Words are swirling,
Music is playing,
Mind in haze,
With the fifth cup of caffeine.