I am but broken pieces,
held together by a thin thread.
I am but a mess,
'ripped apart' they said.
A smile masked upon my face,
as I tear in the inside.
Laughter as my shield,
though I know I cried.
I'm an artwork of spirals,
let alone a thin line.
I'm the black sheep that says,
"I'm fine, I'm really fine."
I guess I'm this fallen star,
that shouldn't be here.
So I'll drift back again to slumber,
where my thoughts finally clear.
YOU ARE READING
Stardust
PoetryStardust (n.) - For we are all specks in this world full of lost souls and broken hearts. - In which a young, ink-stained girl, talks about the thoughts that haunts her. --x full synopsis inside. immerse yourself in an uncanny girl's deep ocean of t...
