After Love Learnt Me

Tom, Contributing Writer

March 3, 2026

Later, I finally learned to love, But our hearts had already drifted apart, lost in the sea of unfamiliar faces, floating away to silent places.
	White petals, orange flowers, settle gently on my shoulders. A mild rose fragrance drifts so near. You return slow, yet crystal clear.
In the starless night, summer seventeen, our love and dreams were brighter than it seemed.
	If only we had softened where we stood, set pride aside instead of calling it good, our souls may carry a lighter ache. Like a mirror, trust is made to break.
Beneath the black and blue, I ask if these thoughts reach you. Has time dissolved the pain, or do the old scars remain?
	I wonder how you feel if my name appears. Is it a quiet smile, or something surreal? Timeless voyage in an uncertain sea, is there someone who still reminds you of me?
Between the past and where we stand, holding fragments in my hands, words we never dared to say quietly drift and pass away.
	Later, I learned how to love, but our present had already become the past. Words were spoken far too fast, our vivid dreams have failed to last.

The Roar