I'm a weed in some thorns.
Unwanted and forlorn,
Trying to survive,
A bleeding sacrifice.
The world weighs me down,
Scratches me and pokes,
I'm away from the beauty,
No that's far above.
Up through the shadows,
I see a glint of hope.
But it falls, falls down,
Until it hits the ground.
To wither up and die.
A shrinking sacrifice.
Withering away,
My cage only grows from day to day,
Oh the weeds are growing,
A rose is scarce these days,
But I'm still hoping anyway.
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of My Puzzled Heart
PoetryIt's a collection of my poetry. One of the main presiding topics is the idea of darkness, but there are also other things that are happier. I don't really know what to say other than that. Oh wait. My book is totally AWESOME and you should READ IT(l...
