The whole world is in your hands,
Fragile like a glass on your mom's shelf,
Beautiful like every sunrise,
If you let her fall, so will the rest of life.
She's made from a deadly poison,
You're consumed by her good looks,
Soak it in right now before it's too late;
But you let her die a slow death.
Held her in your pitiful hands,
The glass shattered onto the ground,
No more sunrise, just black skies,
And you fell, and that is the end.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl With The Gift
PoetryEmbark on a captivating journey, where every line becomes a gateway to a realm of emotions waiting to be discovered. Immerse yourself in the enchanting world of my poetry, where dreams soar beyond the limits of your imagination and hidden truths are...
