I found you sitting on a bench alone,
I wonder why.
I sat beside you and ask why'd you cry,
You said that you tripped and earned abrasion.
I saw your arms and saw red stripes.
Swiftly, I took a bandage.
Calmly, I wiped your damage,
Clearing all of the aches.
Tried to hold you back,
Yet you walked even you're still weak.
There's no pity for the meek,
Cause a simple heart, is what they lack.
Now, cover your wound,
Expect to trip over more.
Your knees will surely sore,
Touching beneath the other surface below the moon.
YOU ARE READING
Withered Amity
PoetryI'll be your sidekick When you're the hero. I'll be your shadow As you light and flick. Believe me, I'm your deus ex machina.
