I'm a tired dove
Off the breached branch in the courtyard
Where I used to play tea parties
And doll house
I'm buried in roots and I rot
In the dirt where my footsteps have faded
Where I could be seen
But not heard
I'm a tired dove
Where I cannot speak if not argued with
A little mumble from my beak
And I am off the land
Where I craved hugs and care
I cannot find it anymore
I think they call it happy house
I'm a tired dove
Where I want to treat others right
And not bare them of others' mistakes
That dawned upon me
Because they might have misinterpreted hurt others hurt others
Where they do not fix themselves
As I'm lying here in the cold
Where the breached branch stayed
And so did I
Trying to fix THEIR mistakes
YOU ARE READING
Cracked Surface (That You Don't Seem To Notice)
PoetryA bunch of poems I wrote on various occasions. I'm a beginner so it's not that good and some are not about me. Sometimes I think about others who have gone through way worse than me whenever I'm on my bed breaking down. I'm not someone whose parents...
