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Rated: E · Other · Arts · #2010173
Something I wrote the other night. Just metaphorical blubbering playing with rhyme
We – are broken glass strewn across the floor



Dripping tears from our weeping lord



What to do in the storm



Rought upon by ingrates and norm



All these whims and cradled cries



Snuffed out aidled minds with sighs



Everyday these creations persist



Beg to be and beg to exist - when



Pens and papers live to bleed



And write the tales we choose to leave



When emotions crawl and cry



As shattered glass begins to fly





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