I dared to dream
I thought I could be a poet
Write sonnets about love and hope
But instead my inspiration could not be found
Because unlike others I was not bound
I wasn't sewn from the same cloth
Unlike velvet, I bore a cotton heart
Easily torn, but hard to make
These dreams, so strong they were hard to break
And so I built myself a tower of dreams
One so high that even I could not cliimb
And when I did, I obviously fell
Because my dreams were a doorstep to hell
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Poisoned Thoughts
PoetryJust some random thoughts I guess If you like them vote and comment For the poets out there that are battling their demons
