For the drafts that'll never get published–
For the man who sits in void getting high off finger
Cigarette because that's the only thing that can fill
the Cup of emptiness buried within.
For the stray dogs who wonders in the streets
without a owner to love them whole ...
For the girl who sacrificed herself just to blend in with the crowd who all hides broken smiles behind a secure mask.
For the beautiful laddies out there who feels as if
their bodies are not self worth–but are worth more
Than the word worth self worth itself.
For the boy who's father burn marks on his skin while crimsons streaks trails on his chocolate skin his lips shivering, his father-saying "wipe those tears boy!", "I'll make society think that you're weak son!, makes you less of a man show me you can take it like a man!".
For the over-thinkers who doubt their move every time they get a hold of the ships wheel.
The buyers who buys art but don't understands it for it's just a decoration...
For the woman who sits in the tub drowning in her sorrows with a glass of red wine thinking about her new born but long gone–
For the book lovers who reads and reads getting lost in books just to wake up away to a boring life of reality .
For the poets and writers out there who wrist
bleeds Ink on paper –
Words as cries that'll never be seen or heard...
For the birds who taught them selves to fly.
For the dreamers who only can dream of ones life .
For the black sheep's who gets treated for being different they mock you because your different is far from their own, "never feel bad for being different".
Different is ok it's original it's beautiful even though it gets backed away into the darkness it's still shines like a bright diamond under sun light .
For you all there's a star in every galaxy that hears
Your cries come together my friends for we will drown in our sea of lost gold.
-ashes poetry
