You hold the rope,
I'm hanging on.
My source of strength,
My source of hope.
And I won't let go,
And I believe,
That neither will you.
Sometimes it can be trouble,
Sometimes it may hurt.
Pain you might feel,
None has a heart of perfection
And none has a heart of steel.
Yet,
We will not loose grip,
And will love forever.
This is our bond,
This is our connection.
YOU ARE READING
Mend
PoetrySomething's misplaced. It's broken, it's harmed and stabbed and hurt. Our visions are blur for we don't look at what's not visible - what's inside, the power and beauty within and how it is misaligned. We need to heal, we need to mend.
