Their Pain Read Count : 107

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I am made of ink,
I write about anything.
My blood mixes with their pain,
But my tears wash away every sin.

  I am made up of yesterday,
Today I can no longer find myself
In the crowd I followed until now...
The past takes me "nowhere."

My skin is a sheet of paper,
I have erased some mistakes
But others always appear and I can no
Longer hide them under umbrella
Because of the judgments.

I let my life take me where it wants,
Sometimes being alone is better
Than being accompanied.
I'm not afraid of fire anymore,
I can be burned as the sun burns the sunrise.

Comments

  • very good poem

    Feb 09, 2023

  • Feb 09, 2023

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