golden sun lead by golden skies,
awake comes the blue caked with lies.
golden sun trailed by greater golds,
a sigh, a cry, off comes our molds.
specks of silver leak through the dark,
but the leaks are patched and left with no mark.
no silver, no gold,
no one to grab and hold.
scratches on the wall, on the arms,
they say internal screams cause no harm.
golden sun lead by golden skies,
our silver used and left to die.
YOU ARE READING
those who wander
Poesíathoughts from those who wander ~ best rank - 356 in poetry (july 2, 2016) [lowercase intended]
