distorted skies;
opaque waves;
we bang on the glass panes
on the screens of half-truths
.
let us have a sight;
of clouds, our souls painted
tarnished and tainted.
.
let us have our chalks white
and boards black;
the duster you keep
tumbling, fumbling on the stairs
How long, how long?
.
the rage is reckoning
the pride is beckoning
the sabres are rattling glass panes;
your facade looks on upon;
our eyes screaming.
YOU ARE READING
Mirror Of Me | Poetry ✔
Poesía[a poetry collection] a dance to the fleeting emotions, notes to the music of life, a story of everything felt and told yet still, so many stories; so very untold. Of nights spent in solace of people so much more. Rankings: 🥇#poetry...
