So now I lie here,
Thinking of who we were,
Who we are,
And who we're supposed to be.
Life not simple,
As we clearly see.
Pulling each other apart
By the force of resistance,
Pushed back together
With the weakest of love.
Not sure where we are,
Maybe we're flying,
On the wings of a dove?
How is it possible to be alive,
When all we've ever wished for;
Is to quickly just crumble and die?
Are we above death,
Or is there no greater power,
High in the grey clouds,
Granting our darkest wishes.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
شِعرHey, this Is a collection of poetry I've been writing since 2010. I promise it's better toward the end, being that's my more recent stuff. So feel welcome to skip forward, read it backwards or whatever you'd like:)
