When I see myself, I see wonders
I see laughter, I see smiles
I see tears from when I cried
But my arms, they seem to flicker
Looking once, they're bearing scars
Looking twice, nothing at all
Is it a vision, is it a dream?
A sight of what'll be reality?
The pain will pass, but what stays are scars
Memories claiming their „rightful" place
An exhibition to the highest grace
YOU ARE READING
𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕨𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖
Poetry𝐿𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 ∞ 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑦 ✎
