You always write such sad poetry
On things you know nothing about,
Constantly reaching and prodding around
For a justified felling of depth or belonging.
Your heart may well beat off-key and broken,
But its harms are not as severe as you assume.
I am not putting your emotions into context
Because there is no need to; I know you.
The eloquence in your wanderings is such a sweet gift,
But you waste it on things you haven't dealt with yet;
Save your soft words for when the world will swallow you
And birth you back into living with a new eye for experience.
Until then you should smile and breathe,
Enjoying youth for its comfort and ease.
There will be time for sad poetry when
You've learn how to hurt and how to heal again.
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