Their brokenness appeal to me
Their faded paint wearing away
Broken hinges and ugly corners
All those parts abandoned by others
Become a paradise for me
I want to remember them
Record them forever
Give them a history
Let the ugly, broken and old speak through me
I who was once called ugly
Will be your friend
Will speak to the end.
How men throw you away, I don't know
I can't bear to hear your cries
As you wonder why you were made
Only to be cast away
Covered by rotten leaves and mud
You're not the glory you once were
But even if I was to tell you the entire story I don't believe you'll understand
The simpleminded cannot understand the Artist's travails.
In a world of politics and science,
We slowly fall under the injustice of scrutiny.
Our abilities are questioned,
And we ourselves are shook.
To create things only to cast them away,
Has become the norm.
Forgive us, your makers.
Your faint beauty that echoes in your broken shell.
Forgive us,
We misuse this power too much.
And you become the victims that are cast out.
Come into my arms then.
Let me embellish your Pain,
Let me record your existence.
YOU ARE READING
Tell Me Something
Poetry~where I tell you many things~ It would be a lie if I say I don't feel many things. I feel alot. But I also do not feel anything most times. If I change my skin and become someone else, will you still understand me? Why don't I tell what I think? _ ...
