It's not for all
These four walls
And the prayers they've heard
Since the day
they were born
Happy cheers
Sorrow tears
Still echoe at every
inch and corner
This is the ball
For all to see
Maybe today is not
The day you dance with me
Fancy gowns and expensive coats
Are nothing compared to
Your new turquoise robe
Breathe
Things will get better
I know we are no genie in a bottle
But hold my hands and recite a prayer
Maybe He will have mercy
On weak undeserving sinners
Maybe a cure is just around the corner
Or bottles of pills of different colors
But breathe
I will have my umbrella ready
For all the days
When you're under the weather
I wish to have wings
I wonder if my angel is kind enough
To let me borrow his
In case it rains
Rusty bullets of many pains
I will cover you
With what I have in remain
Until I am just a ruin
YOU ARE READING
Words of A Bad Writer
PoesíaHere lies the stories the words that speak of miseries that sometimes sing of beauty that some days lace with mystery but all the time dance in purity of a broken spirit writer * A collection of writings and poetry*
