before i came to you
i had been loved by someone else.
and even though i was a pretty face,
i was sharp around the edges.
it must have been difficult to care for
someone as treacherous as me
so they threw me out to sea
and leeft me to handle the
cruel waves by myself.
but you were there,
oh so gentle and kind.
you didn't care
for my sharp edges or my pretty face,
but how i loved with all that i had,
even if that wasn't much.
you softened me down
with each crash of the waves
and the relaxing message of the sand.
you made me
smooth and reliable
a kinder, softer soul.
but then came a day that
someone lifted me up and pulled me away
from your watery, lovely embrace
because they saw a pretty face.
i haven't seen you since
and i can't help but feel lonely.
i want people to see me the way you did.
not pretty, not sharp
but understanding.
i worry that every day
i'm away from you
i get sharper
and my soul
will no longer be
what you fell in love with.
YOU ARE READING
tragedy
Poetry[a collection of poetry] tragedy (n.) 1) an event causing great suffering, destruction, and distress, such as a serious accident, crime, or natural catastrophe. 2) dealing with a serious or somber theme, typically that of a great person desti...
