It is so cliché.
Stereotypical you might say.
But this whole 'thing' of hidden truths;
unreachable specs of dust...filled with joy, untouched
is what bothers the subconscious and draughts the wells of happiness.
All out judgment, visibly unspoken.
Destroys the hearts of many, left broken.
Hope is but just an eternal wish, that outlives the faith of the young.
Embracing each other is what we could of had
But the 'doors' will forever remain shut with anxious fear.
All but what is wished is for betrayal.
Colliding emotions with self-destructive force,
Unshedded water drops of feels,
Are part of realizing truly the bindings of the Body, deceived by 'fate'.
YOU ARE READING
My Lil Story Of Life And Depression: Poems Of The Lost And Wounded
РазноеThese are some of my poems and my weird random thoughts. It may contain sad things, some explicit content, things that may bring you joy, things that are just my truth or maybe they are lies. Ideals that my thoughts provide, while in my writing, you...
