to rise...
is to fall over and over again
on the same thorn,
that mock our chances;
as we get up
on bloodied knees.
yet, the chance
and change,
rebuilds our route into diamonds
which we curse on spot;
and thank years later.
but,
to rise
and see...
is the real
star,
that shine bright like a halo
in our smile;
otherwise, the rise
was yet another frown line
upon our dull
pretense.
YOU ARE READING
Ink Stains
PoetryA collection of musings from my heart that doesn't stick to a certain genre but mostly writes on heartbreak, depression, sadness, loneliness... of course masked under heavy abstract and metaphorical imageries. It might not be your simple poem to...
