As we open our drawers, we find inside
Some old clothes hanging and faded colors that died
They can be colorful, or may appear null
But one thing is for sure, we want to be pretty like a doll
We make up for the things we can't have
So we grow our clothes grandiose worthy of a sob
But what we don't know is that... what we truly dress should be our soul
And we might not also know, but may feel, that our dresses are worn out and has a hole
Do not cover it up with unmatch cloth
Do not stitch with a tacky truth
But face it, let it sore and renew
Embrace your aperture, so you can find the perfect sew
YOU ARE READING
One Hundred Fifty
RandomFifty, Fifty, Fifty A writing challenge for myself is to create fifty poems, fifty essays, and fifty one-shot stories, every single prekeng day to make it a hundred and fifty days of honing my skills and giving sparks to my interest. Here's the deal...
