W a l k i n g T r a g e d y.
I was a walking tragedy,
in which everything I had
was dripping out of me.
I was a walking curse,
with nothing left
but poetry.
I held my dreams
within what was left,
yet they slipped
out of me.
So, I held my
broken arms,
broken legs,
broken ribs
and broken
hearts.
I held the smashed pieces;
the only glories I own
and made out of the ends
the better starts I want.
-because rebirth comes
after tragedies,
Hiraya.
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PoetryBetween sunsets and sunrises are a bunch of poems that may mean nothing or may mean everything. Between sunsets and sunrises I am not afraid of the dark, I am fond of it. Part II of The Zeros. Made it to the wattys shortlist!
