A self not freed.
Bullets on head.
Heart's bleeding red.
I am okay.
Eyes are crying.
Thoughts are shouting.
Slowly falling.
I am okay.
On the corner,
I shed a tear.
"How are you dear?"
I am okay.
I'll always say I am okay
but I am caged in gray.
Even if I reveal the reality
who would even care anyway?
YOU ARE READING
Whisper of Words
PoetryIf you can't hear it out loud and your voice couldn't make a sound, listen to the whisper of words. A collection of poems
