Where have we gone?
Nowhere my dear, we are still here.
What has home become?
There's no need for home, when we are our own dome.
Why has the word safety become numb?
The same reason life travels, and stone has become gravel.
So then, who are we?
Stone, ash, jewels—
Who really cares?
Why must we question our existence when our place of belonging is within ourselves.
YOU ARE READING
𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺
诗歌a collection of letters, poems, and short stories from deep within, a little addiction with it too; welcome to the emotions of the awkward teenage time we all once had.
