Turmoil; feelings you gave me.
Difficult to decipher.
A puzzle lost its piece.
Shattered that will never be refurbished.
Scars you left me—
T'was never sculpted like a masterpiece.
Maladroit that needs to be concealed.
Indeed you were inept!
The monstrosity of your art left me hideous.
A filthy artwork.
Unvalued and rejected.
Condigned to feel the punishment.
This aguishness engulfed me.
People spurn,
Now I mourn.
What have you done?
YOU ARE READING
Énouement
PoetryStucked in a modernized soul with no ink and pen. A collection of poetry.
