Your pride is like a sieve,
You keep in draining it out,
I keep on filling it in.
All of us are creating the signs,
Showing that we're gone,
That we're good for life.
We've been crossing the line,
So much that,
We've forgotten how to oblige.
Our eyes have changed sight,
We can see the beauty.
Even in the worst nights.
We're so twisted,
But we're so clear,
Because we cherish and smile
At our own tears.
YOU ARE READING
Carte Blanche
Poetry"Isn't it fascinating, how I can write down all my deepest emotions and thoughts with ease, but with speech, I stutter with shame?"
