Poem -
11 years.
I've been sitting here all day,
And I think but has nothing to say,
I wish I could pay,
Pay my mind to heal the wounds,
Pay my heart to decompose the memories,
It's logic, I know you think it isn't!
I carry myself back,
The hands on the skin,
The skin is mine but the hands weren't,
From a bloodline, By a kin,
At 7, the bud forced to wither!
I feel lorn,
Especially on days like this when Am stone cold sober,
1000 eyes looking at me,
But none see me,
On this sheet I'll try to uncover,
My 11 year old wounds,
But first I need a reunion,
Of my mind and heart,
An handshake,
Of the two organs.
11years,
Ava herar.
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Comments
beautiful write..
Very sweet :)