A broken piece of glass in a hand,The scream of a thousand daggers,The pierced soul leaking on the carpet,Shedding the color from grey to red,A sound thought an uneasy wound,The separation of flesh from the boneHis eyes glows in the dark, unwillinglyHe crawls up to protect himself, he hidesIn the corners, weakness grows within himLike a blunt knife cuts through thick meat,Within him is anger, violence a willing soStrong to fight but it tends to destroy…No control, no sound mind no safe heartBut a borrowed broken old cup, a mirrorsShort ended reflection, something’s aboutHim makes him aware of himself of hisOwn existence, like a broken glassBottle his fallen apart, shattered all overThe floor no glue can hold him together now..one of my own written poems...if you gt anything you want to comment or just give me some advice I'm all ears thank you for reading my poem...hope you enjoyed it..more to be posted soon...
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