The fear of being used by the same person who extended his hand
Hand which had made of feathers
The feathers which refused to carry any weight
The weight which had been burdening the soul for too long to remember
Remember, the time when you believed in that help
Help that was supposed to make you feel safe
Safe things are often imaginary for I have seen the blunders of humans
Humans are flesh and bones, they possess no power to aid
Aiding the victim who shouts for his existence, his significance, in the light house every morning
Morning passed by the thought of a support, who actually bloom the roses, not only watch and move past them
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White Stained Roses
PoetryA 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...
