Hidden – May 30, 2019

Grief, life, poetry 1 Minute

I am no weakling

I will not break

At your silent quivers

Your thrown words.

Who you think I am,

Or want me to be?

This is me,

I am no weakling

Beckoned by your call.

My heart speaks

And I will hear her.

Maybe one day,

You will

Bask in the love

That has always been

me,

Hidden to you.

Unknown's avatar

Published by Doree

Grief Out Loud. Art. Life

Published

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