I pace recklessly,
I fail miserably.
I love unconditionally,
I am broke carelessly.
As lovely as the rose,
As threatening as it's thorns.
As dark as the night,
As lightful as the stars.
Full of colors,
That repel,
That are ugly.
Full of colors,
That blend,
That form beauty.
I make sins,
That no devil ever did.
I do good,
That no angel could ever do.
The sky thundered,
The land cracked.
For the angels and devils rose to ask.
"What are you?"
"So scarfully beautiful,
So perfectly imperfect."
I answered,
"Human"
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.
