Bearing the weight of Atlas on your shoulders as it was fated to be
You feed the roots of igdracil but your toil none do see
If the reader does not understand I say Good and
I say you carry the weight of the world on your heart
And if a human could see it would give them a start
All the while you smile for me
And I return the favor hoping to heal your spine
But all you want is me back
So why can't I see the world on your heart?
Scars heal but only ones made on the surface don't come back
Secret double life to live
But it kills with each gift it gives
Others don't see the frown on your heart
But I smile straight from mine
I see you walk and laugh
I know the pain you bear
But to hide it is your craft
I hope to travel there and let my light shine through till I see your real smile.
The Real You Is Really Me. ~Elaine.
YOU ARE READING
poems
Randompoems by me. Try not to judge too harshly some of these were made at 13-14 years old. The new-ish ones start at "scars inside" so, um... enjoy?
