So you think you can fill my shoes,
Pick up my sword and write my story.
You think you know me since you
Shadow over my every move.
But in reality you only know the
Scorched grass on the surface --
Not the soil that cultivated the
Blossom trees and the tulips
Or the grains that sustained those around me.
What are you afraid of?
To be exorcised or cast out?
You sought refuge in my words,
But they were no shield for you to hide behind.
Be the phantom you were meant to be.
Don't mutilate your feet to fit into my shoes
And let your voice give life to your
Own garden of strength.
YOU ARE READING
Nature's Balanced Garden
Poetry"People are like flowers. We all need a little rain to grow." Inside, there is a collection of my personal works of poetry that I have created and poured my heart into making. The themes range from real-life experiences and topics such as body image...
