Knees buckling
Falling, falling
Until I hit
The hard ground
Words
Are said in my face
But I know
I can't hear them
Hands are coming
Up to my face
Oh wait,
They're my own
Why is there water
Dropping
On the ground
What are they
Tears? Oh no
This is not good
There, there
Don't cry
Everything's okay...
YOU ARE READING
constantly blooming.
Poetry'i will never stop blooming, like an eternal rose of flame... i may have my times of smolder and small sparks, but i will always become a huge inferno in the end... and nothing can stop me.' Collection of poetry and prose between the ages of 10-15...
