With each passing day
The bruises began to go deep
Not in the skin
But in the mind
But it's not as a bruise but as a wildflower
Growing with each sun ray and dew drop
That came from burning deserts and dark caves
When was the last time you followed your heart?
When was the last time you listened to your heart?
It questioned and questioned
Until faiths and beliefs
Reformed and changed
YOU ARE READING
Serenity Praise
PoetryHere I paint my bleds and laughs... Seasons of life there you bloom.
