Poetry can give an insight to the soul of the writer. Or the reader. Poetry can touch on the feelings you don't want to admit to, and those you wish you could celebrate. On life. On time. On what it is to be you.
Here's Pieces of Me, a poetic intros...
Sometimes the shadows tell you they're friends Under cover of the night they wear Friends to support Friends to take care Endless promises endlessly unkept Reality bites with teeth so sharp Instead of nurture they break your heart No rules, no hope, no sorrow saved Gone are the dreams that once you craved
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Shadows hold so many secrets. They wait in the corners, watching all that you do. Remembering. Waiting.
What do you think they wait for? Are they doing this, or are they the memories of the day, waiting for light to send them on their way to their afterlife?
