Cracked Foundations

Poetry

In a hideaway
A flower peaks through
Distorted stone walls
Who would have thought
Such wonder could be found
Inside a cracked foundation?
If I gave you a little glance
To my broken heart
You’d see a flower
Growing out of the cracks
Because over time
Even a lost soul can blossom
And like migrating birds
Fly into a paradise

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Ripped

Poetry, Writing

I am a rose, my petals fall
Not due to the seasons
But inescapable time
Passing by like hourglass sand
Through dry fingers
Still walking, all broken
The thoughts in my mind
A heavy weight, crushing me
I am a ripped bag, I fall apart
And cry, and cry and cry

Specimen

Poetry

Between two walls
She is framed inside a cedar box
Like a rare insect specimen
Nailed on the edge of the hardboard
Under glass enclosure
For their close inspection
Are her eyes bright enough?
Is the head still intact?
Why is she positioned like a broken orchid?
Never right enough, never good enough
Constantly observed
Tired of having dried up wings
Disintegrated legs made of wooden sticks
Forcing more made up smiles, a trapped fly
Self-destroying parasite
Over-thinking, self-analyzing
Unnecessary introspection turns the faucet on
She chokes on salt-water, if nobody’s watching
When it’s appropriate