Ink...
Thinking...
Scribbling...
The feelings.
All she wanted was attention
All she wanted was love
She tried to survive
Tried to derive
The joy and company and drive
To never disappoint
Her mother's work to joint
The remains and the hurt
Of her broken home
The ball played from the partner's court
Her dream of fairytales so far fetched
Yet her doubt for happiness so faint.
Her mother deserves a medal
A strong woman,as fragile as a petal.
Put on high pedestal
Till she fell,a fallen knight
Not dead,she'll forever fight
That inner light
Of this sensitive child
Sweet and pure
Flourishing and young.
Stained with scrowls and scolds
The African scope.
She could never cope.
Joy and sadness,pain and patience.
Yin and yang to every experience.
Why does she remember just the sadness?
Why does she remember the darkness?
To be alone isn't loneliness
Loneliness is realizing you are alone...
Broken homes not broken beings
For it all comes back to ink
Thinking...
Scribbling...
These feelings. -ifelee
