I'm an art of pain,
Made to be an uncolored canvass.
Writing my endless agony,
And dreaming it would become a story.
I'm a shattered dream;
A broken truth.
I breathe in dismay,
And forgot how to pray.
Was made like a paint,
Was sold like a book.
Was cursed like an alluviun,
And was faded into oblivion.
Finally, I felt a deep remorse-
For feeling black for years.
Today, I'll go beyond what's told,
And will reach my goal.
-roseesesch
YOU ARE READING
Broken
PoetryThis poem is written by my thoughts, past and heartbreaks. This is where I put all the bleeding words in my head. A broken poem from a broken pen. And this poem is not just for me. I also write to rescue those dying hearts. I write for those who can...
