From the story "Silence" made with itstilliswhatitis
Thousands of people on the street everyone has its own story
everybody has its own demon
people laughing
people crying
some are scared
and some are fighting
My eyes stealing glances
of life from a person's eyes
some genuinely happy
some faking
a few fighting a monster
of their own making.
I'm just like them
simply a stranger
but somehow much more than that. Just like him. He is beautiful.
Stranger is an interesting word.
It might mean something
you don't know
something
from somewhere else
something weird
something surreal.
That's him.
A beautiful, ethereal, (short)
and blue-eyed stranger.
But still, just a stranger.
YOU ARE READING
Poems Only For The Brave
PoetrySometimes I write. This is stuff that I wrote because why tf not? It is not something I will update regularly. Don't have high expectations. Hopefully I will reach them. Maybe I won't. The only way to know is to read.
