I was never supposed to exist
I should just be some evaporated mist
I am translucent in the pale moonlight, the hand of solitude extended towards me
I take it willingly, knowing that no company at all makes the best
Knowing that no one looks at me without another glimpse
I am just some veil, some hallucination, or a silhouette nonetheless
I am like you though. I have a soul, a beating heart, and sometimes need a soft caress
I need a hand to wipe my tears
I need a story to eradicate my fears
Yet again, I am just some M I S T A K E
My face is just an eraser's failed attempt
I am just some scratched out flaw
I am devoured every second by the claws of imperfection
When I stare into the mirror for hours, there is no reflection
Not a sign of pigmentation or complexion
I am just like the dead poets, just a piece of their collection
I want affection.
I want to be loved despite that I am see-through
Just some tell-tale work of fiction
I deserve to be admired, and noticed
But yet again those words flash again in mind
M I S T A K E
YOU ARE READING
The Best is Created; Not Found
PoesíaA collection of inspiring poetry (or at least I hope). I am new to the community and I hope that you enjoy my work! Will continue to stories later. ~_~