Buried
I lie in a grave, dug by my own hands.
The gift I gave the world given back to me.
Buried beneath the storm of memories. Who I was does not matter.
I only leave a single seed of myself trapped inside everyone I met.
The gift I gave the world given back to me.
I lay in a grave dug by my own hands, buried by memories.
Masked
Fall into the light,
surrounded by staring eyes.
As words echo in your ears,
fly, transform, evolve.
Echo words as someone else.
The light fades.
You leave,
Stripped of the mask.
Time passes.
With a new mask fall into the light.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For Fun
PoetryPoetry I write for myself. Comment for feedback. I will take criticism even if it harsh.
