People, I see everyday.
I see everyday my face.
Yet what finally gives me rest
Is here that stays.
They say and I believe,
Love those around.
But why is it that,
It always comes in vein?
Then what I'm left with
Is hurt, regeret and pain,
Thinking, I would never
be the same.
But when the clock strikes 10
And I see those eyes,
I feel at home.
Is that even fine?
If it is all fine
Then, why do I feel
The eyes judging,
Theirs and mine?
YOU ARE READING
The Broken Soul
PoésieIt's a collection of poems written by the 'Peace Finder' in pursuit of herself. It doesn't matter if you are a lost soul or already a well bloomed flower, you will find her work relatable and heartfelt. Her poem are not long and you can definetly s...
