I am from broken dreams
White powder and added weight
Empty bottles of happy juice
A hand that was never extended
I am from oak trees
Seen from a trailer park
Doused in false love
Screaming, yelling
Too loud for a child's ears
Escape
I am from old, chipped white wood
The starry night and brown fur
I'm the watered-down blood
Of a teary wound
I am from the mooing of cows
In early morning
And the howling of coyotes
As I rest my head
I am from a broken mirror
Belonging to a single frame
Yet shattered and scattered
Covered in jagged edges
Don't go near
I am from false hope
Blind smiles and fake tears
From a cool touch
Of frosty air
And from family
That melted the glue
YOU ARE READING
The Poems Of Me
PuisiPoetry is a form of venting for me. So don't be surprised if you read this only to find a book full of meaningful, and possibly confusing, poems. In some way, my poems are a form of myself and my own feelings. ((PLEASE DON'T STEAL! I MAKE THESE POE...
