It's sharp,
Its painful,
It's played like the string of a harp,
It is pleasurful,
To be seen by all,
But in time they will wait their turn,
When it's comes to be they shall burn,
It will always fall,
Many will be shattered over and over,
To only see nothing but being hopeless,
It is their special kind of lover,
It's not worthless,
But in the end,
It will depend,
How do you want it,
Quick and painless,
Or over time and excruciating,
We think we have a choice,
And yet we don't,
It's always the second one,
But in the end we are all the same,
For we are the,
Broken
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
Poetrythis will be a collection of my poetry. Each one will have different lengths. I will try an update a new poem every day. Not all of them will rhyme, or maybe even rhyme a little. I hope you guys enjoy reading it.
