You.
You taught me how bitter hearts didn't always
Mean bitter people.
How beneath their crooked eyebrows and
Wrinkled, sweaty shirts
How within their restless chests and
Blackened, crumbling hearts
There breathed an angel.
Though wingless,
Though frowning,
Though tainted,
Though drowning,
There breathed an angel nonetheless.
One overturned by
The tides of an ocean so red
With the blood of competition
And cutthroat rivalry.
And one overwhelmed by
Life's hard, heavy punches
That sent one reeling
Writhing in pain.
One dead and rotten.
One lost - forgotten.
One bloody and lost,
Eaten by frost
And guilty memories.
You.
You taught me how bitter hearts didn't always
Mean bitter people.
But in this case,
It seems,
You've gotten it all wrong instead.
YOU ARE READING
It (#Wattys2016)
Poetry| 1st Place for Summer Sun Awards (Beginner's Firsts) | | 2nd Place for the Pinpoint Awards | | Finalist for the 2016 Awards | It matters not what people think regarding things you believe strongly in. Perhaps, it may even help to even spread...