It's okay, my dear, to let tears fall,
It shows not weakness but emotions, it's only human.
It's okay, my dear, to feel culpable,
It shows not strength but emotions,
it's only human.
It's okay, my dear, to act human.
We are moulded, like clay, to show no feelings,
We are perfected, like a masterpiece, to not ever start peeling.
We are losing individuality, and I defy you to not fit one stereo-type because how can we all be unique with 7 billion others crowding our personality and appearance.
But it's okay, my dear, to be human in a land filled with them because, after all, what else can you be? -H.B
YOU ARE READING
Words We Cannot Speak
PoetryPoems; Woe and hope, love and despair Poems mend us, they repair. Broken souls mixed with broken minds, Poems teach us what it is to be alive. They offer thoughts to inspire. They give us hope to aspire, They answer unanswerable questions They offer...
