She's a lady but not completely.
She grin and laugh falsely.
Her heart is full of evanescence
Like a star into battling scenes.
These beams she's showing,
Are utterly fading.
Her boff and chortle maybe annoying,
But her laughter is too harkening,
For someone's reminiscing.
Find difference from others,
Considers herself as cinder.
Distress lady yet she's a laddie.
Striplings enthusiast her yet she's still shabby.
In the end,she's always been snappy,
Although a little bit dowdy.
Carrying a heavy cross in her shoulder,
Endeavouring anguish without mutter.
Acting strong and tough
When she knew she can't luff
nor pass through,
The melancholy
YOU ARE READING
Her Tears are Poetries
PoetryPain changes someone's out-breathing. Instead of telling, she kept her pain through poetries. She let her tears into words as agonies bled blood in her soul.
