Oh dear
What has made you so quiet
And devoid of life
That your eyes no longer hold mischief
You were a radiant being
A weapon against the submissive society
And they stripped it from you
In an attempt to starve the artist
But are you really hungry
Or seething for justice
Because the only thing saving you from a bleeding lip are your pretty cheekbones
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Healing
PoetryShe's not okay, but writing it down helps. - Part I: It's time to rip off the band-aid. Poems: slam, traditional, free-verse. The first twenty are not up to par with the others, but this is an ongoing journey so I feel the need to include them...
