I tear through paper,
ripping to shreds,
all my pain and regret.
I discard of emotion,
like paper,
torn by the wind,
My walls were toppled,
those ancient moss covered
relics of my past.
I shall rebuild,
I shall write again,
continue on till the end.
Torn and toppled,
rebuilt anew,
life in verse.
YOU ARE READING
For the writers
PoetryThe words that strain in a writers mind, they come to fruition only when unleashed upon this world. Contained in these pages are poems about them, those words that both keep us captive and free us simultaneously.