Withered Poetry

6

his masterpieces astounds me.

as if a nuclear bomb just exploded right in front of my eyes, blinding me with its sparks.

his words.

plays above that piece of paper, made with passion no one could ever have. it was on fire yet it was cold, as if made by a broken soul no one could ever mend.

him.

he is an anonymous person who touched my brokenness with his wisdom and made it disappear, as if he is a great physician from faraway land where mending was the only thing they know. he was an expert, no, he was more than that for he managed to heal me with just one brush of the tip of his astonishing wit.