The halls of my life were so empty,
The jokes were made of me,
Between the narrow corners and the innocence of a lullaby,
Everything is clumsy.
Cause I move to settle, you run with a pack, following a scent of wolves,
In my halls, you will see the royalty of people dancing, the bottles in high heels, no waves.
I left your hand, and you remained standing,
Knocking on the floor, I remembered my true celebration, they weren't clapping.
Your rosy touch on the door, a poetic collaboration, finding you with a cure,
I know you will step in, talking about my disturbing problems, I'm so pure.
Small miles with 2 hours, beyond my car, I'll look around my cups,
I'll embrace my imperfections, I'll see you out of my box.
Millions of chances, the ring on the finger, that is what my blood runs for.
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.
