they?
they are soft but hard
the fleshy beauty of a cactus
with spines which draw blood
their smiles are sweet
but their intentions are evil
they?
they are gentle at first
their fingers heal
until you see their hidden claws
which scar and scar
they?
they wear a mask of kindness
until it falls leaving the monster behind
those who know run in fear
those who don't draw near
they?
they love few
only the ones that matter
singing to the plants which produce much fruit
not to the ones on the bottom
they?
they wear a mask of perfection
ugliness hidden by beauty
exactly who everyone seems to aspire to be
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pluto | poetry ✓
Poesíathe space station hums with the early morning traffic, the wafting of coffee and fresh croissants filling the air. for the first time, you are not behind your desk, hitting your shins on the weirdly placed piece of metal, but strapping yourself insi...
