She was like an angel, she rather be the one hurting than see others broken.
She was like a spotlight, never in it, always showcasing others.
She was the sunrise, the sunset, but she never felt like one.
She was everything but was treated like nothing.
She was an angel, whom was tricked into thinking she could fly, even with a broken wing.
Nothing good stays, we drive it away.
How is it that when we see something pure, we throw dirt at it?
How is it that we block the sun?
•Lesly Ramirez 2016
YOU ARE READING
Piece of my Mind
PoetryThis book gives you a taste of what goes on in my mind. : ) NOT EDITED
