They used to scream at me when I cried
and it made the only natural response to my fear
another thing to be afraid of.
Now, when I cry my tears are silver and gold
and despite the memories from when I was only a few years old
I still can’t say that I know
why I’m weeping.
YOU ARE READING
Scars: Vol I
PoetryThis collection of poetry is a raw and emotionally gripping tale told through a loose narrative style and imbued with Allred's passion and personality. It retains a beautiful and haunting style of composition in which we are given an unfettered look...
