you took a look
at my sensitive soul
despite the hard wall
I have built around it,
with one look
you unraveled the thoughts in my mind
most of which did not make sense,
but you deciphered them like poetry.
you are the best form of art
God has created
no amount of words nor images
can suffice to capture your essence
your heart must be made of pure gold
even though you have sown
it back together countless times
throughout the course of your life
you have finally found me
in this lifetime
and finally,
it all made sense.
YOU ARE READING
spilled ink.
Poetrypoetry (/ˈpōətrē/) - words spilling onto paper in the form of emotions. creating an outlet for themselves; turning abstract emotions into a tangible mental image. poetry is not meant to be read, it is meant to be felt. *all written content is orig...
