Have I yet to tell you,
Not to throw rocks,
Through the walls of your glass house?
I thought I said not to build the walls,
Out of something more fragile,
Than yourself.
The glass house,
It's all you have left to protect you.
It's your green screen of happiness,
Always perfectly edited for the world to see.
Can I step inside?
I want to feel the warmth you're hiding,
Within those walls.
Can I look around?
I want to become a part of this,
The little bubble you're living in.
How about,
Instead of throwing the rocks through the walls,
We build something new instead.
You'll still have your little world,
And the door will still have a lock.
But your walls won't be so fragile,
And they'll finally be able to protect you.
أنت تقرأ
Just A Mess
الشعرI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
