My heart bleeds with every flowing ink
Palms sweating with every word I think
Unsaid thoughts with every stroke on paper
Feelings my lips failed to mutter
No one ever truly understands the struggles of a writer
It is something we are good at but never a master
Constant doubt that everyday it gets harder and harder
We're not good at communicating with others
We're mostly silent and often misunderstood
Between you and me, it mostly started from our childhood.
YOU ARE READING
Dolor: Poetry of the unspoken
PoetryCollection of original poems as a way of expressing the author's unsaid thoughts and emotions. A coping mechanism of regretting the "what if's" and haunting forethought. Note that all the poems published are originally my work. Do not post it in an...
