A bright ray never
meant to be straight
Curves and edges
as flawed as perfection
A hidden porcelain
awaiting to be loved
Cunning to those
who see the flawed beauty
A mystery I presume
never to be solved.
-Minha Mehrin
YOU ARE READING
Dulcet
PoetryI see a star I see nothing more I felt a nudge I felt no pain Was it hate? Was it love? Or something in between? A mystery I assume A history they strive to forget A sultry heart all left alone. ________ A collection of poem I write to find what I...
