A cruel twist.
My eyes fixed.
I grab my wrist,
make a wish.
But there's a cruel twist,
and I stand at a door,
one that reminds me of a store.
There once was a boy named Story,
and his little sister, named Rory.
Rory was little...
Story was silly,.
silly as a billy.
As they grew, Story got happier,
and Rory grew sadder.
Rory thought nothing mattered;
Story thought everything mattered.
Even something as simple as Saturn mattered.
But soon, Story felt broken,
her bright tone was taken.
Her truth became tainted,
and slowly, her heart grew fainted.
Story got angry; Rory grew sadder.
This time, Story thought nothing mattered.
Seventeen years old, they drifted apart,
Rory found light, a fresh start.
Story became the shadow cast,
a faint memory, fading fast.
By eighteen, Story held a dream,
but Rory's wish was the brighter beam.
Yet this was the cruel twist of fate;
none could be happy, only wait.
One had to dim for the other's shine,
an unspoken deal over time.
Story knew, deep in her core,
she'd let Rory find joy once more.
So, Story chose to fade away,
leaving Rory in the sun's warm ray.
For in this life where shadows persist,
only one could find happiness in the mist.
YOU ARE READING
Through my lens
PoetryStep into the vibrant mind of a poet and writer, where creativity knows no bounds. Dive into the joy of storytelling through poetry, where each verse offers a glimpse into unique perspectives and untold tales. Let yourself be drawn into the visual s...
