Poetry Blogs (Ashes of a Phoenix)

Looking towards my hands,

I feel them mutter a tone,

Of disdain and sadness,

Dirty and pale, bleeding out from within.

The colors of the honeycomb which is my life,

Building in a way to demonstrate the failures and flaws of my being,

To make it simply this: I feel trapped.

Trapped between the Rock and the grass of an ever developing future,

One, of course, that I ...

Read and leave comments (0)