We were asked to write on the picture above... Enjoy!!
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A black void which beareth the name, "my face",
Not born like this but cursed,
My race had fallen short of grace,
Not by my will but forced.
Every night, I'd wash up my emotions,
Hang them to dry like mere clothing,
That was the tradition.
Preparing for the trials of the coming day,
I'd longed to show my true emotions,
But it wasn't possible.
Happy faces were taboos at home,
Joy was obsolete
Fun was uncalled for,
Love was punishable by death.
A generational suffering which haunted us,
Life was a mere word. Empty.
We fed on fear and suffering,
Not born, but created,
Living only to serve the gods of sorrow,
We are the very nightmares you dream of!
No origin,
No Bloodline,
No will,
No past,
No future,
Faceless but not heartless.
I'm human, so deep down inside,
I still love.
______________🌺_____________
My entry for the Apollo poetry Contest 🌺🌺
I chose to write on Picture #2
Feel free to drop your thoughts and VOTE!!!❤️❤️
YOU ARE READING
Flying Umbrella
PoetryPoetry book of an umbrella, who had her own way of life. × × × I write on the pictures in every page, I'll just keep adding anytime I can, but I'll love you to check it out! Comment and VOTE!!❤️ Happy Reading 🌺🌺
