Roses are blooming
Like the blood of your despair
Its thorns are prickling
On my hands in bare
Staring at the white wall
Watching the drying paint, tall
Carefully watching every little bit fall
So I will know if I have a patient at all
Smelling the morning dew
Feeling the world is at due
Facing the fact that none of these are true
The only fact is that I am blue in my own hue.
YOU ARE READING
THE CLOUDWALKER
Poetry𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗧) - Living in my own words is better than to suffer your world. "THE CLOUDWALKER" is a collection of poems about the feeling of not belonging to the world, feeling of being trapped in the past, presen...
