One single holder, many will he behold,
He carries a burden of secrets, certain to be told,
Slanderous lies and messages, what we would call a myth,
Stretching just like fabric, a limit to his blithe,
the fabric is stretched and stretched, all is left but thread,
Hovering under the eyes of those, curious ears not yet fed,
A smile scrunched under his face, his soul utters otherwise,
Repeating like a broken record, closed but seeing eyes,
An eternal symbol of love, in front is hidden hate,
He continues to stretch and stretch again, destined to be his fate,
Scars from the things they say, each person will always con,
Forever filling that formidable bag, your words truly live on.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
