It was never in my possession
The calmness of the sea as it hits the shore
Or the colors of the sky when the sun meets the horizon
I may be still but the moon has manipulate my waves rogue
I may be filled with life but the winter have subside and filled me coldness
I am never of possession of the things you call beautiful
It was never the adjective I am born with
Look at the withered flower or the plants trying to survive in between cracks
I am the broken one, trying to live like there is life from within.
***
Miss Heartstrong
YOU ARE READING
Facade
PoetryThis is a poetry collection that wishes to speak of the facades we put ourselves upfront. Every words of this work is meant to unleash what is behind every facades, and the truth behind our strong-willed character.
