For years after , when the world broke
I thought myself not as a whole,
To fix it up with tape and glue ,
Until one day I discovered
Everyone else was broken too,
Here we were with pieces,
Of ourselves in both our hands
So fragile and so open
That I began to understand,
I was greedy,
I wanted my soul all to myself,
When it could be alot more helpful,
In the palm of someone's else,
So let me not always hope for the best,
When the worst could teach me
How to build a nest.
YOU ARE READING
WHAT IF I COULD JUST WRITE .
Poetry"Laugh harder at the place where you have cried the most", when no one hear me , I just write.
