A diamond sits alone on the table
Impenetrable in its beauty
And yet,
without the warmth of the beholder
It remains empty,
As cold as the stone it was cut from.
I sit in the empty room,
as I have
For as long as I can remember.
By this time I could not tell you
Am I here to protect myself?
From the world outside these four walls?
Or have I locked myself away like this
to shelter the world
from what lies within me.
YOU ARE READING
old poetry collection
PoetryI'll warn you some of it is dark or very vague they were written 5-10 years ago in average so there's no telling what purposes may have been at the time.
