Hitting the sculptures with my bare hand, roughly and harshly
Hating the fact that they cannot feel my blows, sadly and disappointedly
The volcanoes erupting in the small jar, could not comprehend the pandemic
The emptiness resembles the sculptures, might stick around and see the fall
The lucky fairy in the far away garden, flies in the north and brought the ice of negligence
The avoidance reminds me of sculptures, cash on the ground but turned a blind eye
Jealousy filled in me as the emotions rose, what to do when you feel so low, low
The emotions struck a chord in my head, sculptures are lucky enough not to feel the death inside
A/N
Hello, doves.. hope, you all are well ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
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White Stained Roses
PuisiA collection of poetry about love, pain, misery and hurdles of life. A way of escape through words into the skies of freedom, above the clouds ,where no one can reach me except the bridge of melody I've tried to add roses everywhere in my...
