A thousand letters, a hundred words,
Each thought penned, like songs of birds.
Compassion and divine, in every line,
Seeking validation, a soul's design.
Yet words fall short, in solitude's haze,
Efforts lost in a sorrowful daze.
Poetry turns to sorry, a heart's ache,
Days of writing, a futile stake.
Rage awakens, hands grip tight,
Tears ashamed, in the night.
Emotions mixed, in turmoil's dance,
Unthinkable actions, a painful glance.
A poet's wrath, a price to pay,
In the echoes of words, a soul's display.
Efforts may falter, but strength remains,
In the poet's realm, where truth sustains.
-Littlepsychefries
YOU ARE READING
Every words I Said In My Head
PoetryThey said that being lost was okay until you search for your own way, have your own thoughts on things that most people disagrees, and for fact that things wouldn't go exactly as we wish. Being left, failed and lost so many times was miserable, yet...
