Stars came with scars.
As their pain were sharp as aimed.
They thought she could keep up
With the smile, but it soon faded.
She then wondered if she would
Ever be able to smile, she reflected
Herself in as shadow.
She craved the light yet feared the dark.
Who was she? She asked to nobody but herself.
Her feelings were torn and thrown.
Nothing didn't really matter. Not even
Herself or worse, others.
So she kept running in her thoughts,
She was exhausted with her reality.
While they continued to toy with her
Feels, she made use of words.
She was tired. Mentally. And physically. So she began to write. It was her muse.
YOU ARE READING
Portraits of her heart
PoésieTo all poet enthusiasts, well this is for you. This lovely book is a third person narrative, and yes it's full of poetry whereby you find romance, somber, melancholy, hurt, ecstasy, love, affection, fondness, remorse and a whole lot more. So please...
