“…none can see the pain..”
nothing worse than a withered rose.
everyone simply thinks its dying;just floating
down the path of ending life.
no one stops and thinks about the pain
the rose is actually in.
no one notices the dry earth,
the clouds that hold no rain-
the wind thats never gentle.
nobody sees anything
but the wilting stem.
yet they still admire the rose.
they still call it a beauty.
yet no one sees the pain.
because,
none can see the pain.
YOU ARE READING
My Cutting
PoesíaRaw emotion from eyes that have to fake alot of happiness while watching the world burn up in flames as the ruthlessness of the people go unnoticed by one another. -Rebecca Atkinson
