There is a blacksmith hiding here
Searching for scrapped parts
Those abandoned or left behind
He makes them working hearts
He welded my rough edges
Made me sharp where it would count
He forged me from a twisted thing
Now I'm worth a fair amount
He took a broken person
And he made me something strong
I said you can't reforge a human
But I could not have been more wrong
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...
