In the curtain of faces, diverse and many,
No multitude of thou can fill that empty.
A nurture-shaped void, a longing profound,
Absent in whispers, where love should resound.
In their varied hues, a collective grace,
Yet, none can replace what time can't erase.
The arms unheld, the whispers unheard,
A nurture's absence, a silent chord.
From one to another, the search unfolds,
Yet, the void persists, a story untold.
A longing for a presence, never known,
In the curtain of hearts, a vacancy is sown.
No quantity of thou, however kind,
Can mend the absence, the ache confined.
For a nurture's embrace, never there,
A unique absence, a weight to bear.
YOU ARE READING
Sixteen Verses: Echoes of a Teenage Soul
Poetrymy third poetry book of the age series. it's basically my life in poems, the life of a mentally ill teenage girl. (I'm healing)
