I am on the kitchen floor,
Waiting to put my final touches,
Standing looking at the timer and door.
My hands with wounds you clean,
Saying that I'm the queen,
With rings and bouquets shall I see,
My roots are growing angrily, a mountain between us,
I would climb and cause a mess,
I would wreck, a glasses shall I wear,
Running to God to make a prayer,
I'm sorry If I wouldn't be in the sparkle,
I'm sorry If I fell.
YOU ARE READING
Beyond The Glass
PoetryPutting poetry and prose on a glasses, A time passes, The scar built gashes, a sake of my health drew ashes, This poetry talks about the glasses, and my Cancer journey.
