oh how I hate myself
oh love at the same time
how I hate how my destiny
is written in shrines
oh why must it be that
the the balance of the universe
has made me go this trade
the best of worst
the trade my soul made
being born underground
only having myself
and being love-bound
oh many born in golden rooms
how they envy my love
but how it bonds me backwards
how it ignores my calls
how the beauty of my trade
has made my destiny a picture
how many label me
how they label my brain as fiction
YOU ARE READING
Talking heart
PoesíaTransferring my thoughts in form of poetry. To understand myself, probably, maybe.
