Some wounds are never healed,
Some split seams never sewn,
Sometimes you may be knocked right off
Your very own throne.
You must rise, look up,
Ahead and far beyond:
From somewhere up above, in the sky,
Stars themselves have shone.
It is evident that the feelings
Of having such an empty soul
Will not easily be whisked away,
And on your heart, may take a toll.
Crumpled paper never again as it was,
Seemingly irreparable parchment torn,
Splintered wood, cracked ceramic,
Split seams and fabric worn.
Take your needles and thread,
Simply stitch those seams up well;
If they come apart again,
Let it be so others are unable to tell.
Pretend you aren't at all bothered,
Pretend you never cared all along.
Pretend until your heart repairs itself
And undoes all the wrong.
Pretending might seem petty,
But I assure you that it's not.
It is just a step closer to getting back up
And showing others proof of how hard you've fought.
Split seams, split seams,
Shattered glass and broken dreams,
Flowing through the rivers and streams
And healed by the hope trapped within the sun's light beams.
YOU ARE READING
Scintillation ✓
PoesieThis is a collection of poetry and prose about stars, love and the like. It is a glimpse inside my mind and a full view of my soul. My thoughts are like celestial dust: quite useless on their own, but once they come together, create a star that give...
