Where your sky's are blue, but mine is purple sun
That are truly filled with crystal white specks that are not stars but tears of past time to the dark
There is a face in the sky but it is not Are's or the holy light,
it is of a ghost which broken smiles that wish to reach past the galaxy but are held by the chain of being fake happy
Where waters are clear and you see no red on the big screen it stays in your head ,
That face that wishes so effortlessly to want change but will never be able to Due to her being a shadow of the child's innocence whom she once beheld
But all that is true inside the white specks is that she knows that time is of the essence.
That she will be a reminder only to her.
That need of guidance for her to see who she wishes she could be.
Compel and take the mist from her eyes that makes her well being lost in the child; Who she over sought and let become a mask of a night town.
All dreams are lead to a dark place where the girl can't see the lights that make a face
Where her moon is purple and she wishes to be invisible to reality
Where she thinks her purpose is to be what they should not be cast upon, but to let pain linger until her feeling becomes numb
Wher pain is settled in her heart and her world could only ever consume dark,
So when she meets a light that says, "come my way" the tunnel is filled filled with fireworks that ricochet.
That make a ball of happiness as she puts on a half smile and the shadow says,
"You deserve better. You should never hide for you are an angel in disguise.
So let the lanterns in your eyes shine, so bright. So bright. So bright! Because you are a star you are a magnificent girl who has lost much, so come to my world and let happiness stay in touch.
Where there is no pain and no forever, but a healing place you only make better by remembering who you are. You are the meaning of reaching far!
Look in the sky and what do you see? Tears of the moons beauty,
that moon that cast you for so long but only your darkness could be seen or shown.
Look again at the sky and dream big my butterfly
You are a world of creativity, although you are filled with mystery,
You are a story yet to be told.
So come to my world; your kingdom come and see the place where you belong. At my world there is no kingdom, but If I am you will you make it your home ?"
In Recognition of
Erielle Y. Norris's
Light of Her Breaking Revival
*Hopefully Almost *
YOU ARE READING
⏳ALL IN HER TIME ⌛
PoetryThis book was marveling for me to write. Filled with a series of poems and short stories. Simple songs and testing essays. Questions of inquiry, and basically any form of writing that holds value to me. Unexpectedly taking a turn to its meaning, thi...
