There is only so much I can write on a paper;
Like the paper I look bland, clean, white,
pristine.
I was born in the south, raised in the north, but found myself in
Europe.
My mother taught me independence,
My brother taught me how to argue,
My father taught me that money cannot buy back lost time.
There is only so much I can write on a paper;
Like the paper I am vulnerable, naïve,
Impressionable.
I've seen the world in many ways, through eyes, through
emotion.
Love never came easy to myself.
Loneliness easily confused itself with anger.
Sadness disguises itself as idiocy.
Fear blankets itself with a laugh.
There is only so much I can write on a paper;
Like the paper I am complicated, hidden,
Un-telling,
till written.
YOU ARE READING
The Journey
PoetryA small book of poems I wrote. All photos were taken by me, besides the one for Princess Anna. That was taken by my aunt I believe, and I just edited it a little. Princess Anna is dedicated to my great grandmother who passed away at 4am on January...
