She watched life from
A distance,
Never getting too close.
She was met with
Indifference--
Outside the wind blows.
But within her shines a
Bright light,
Merely kept at bay.
Like stars decorating a
Dark night--
Invisible during the day.
She wonders if anyone
Truly knows,
The sparkle that she hides.
Or the hypnotic way her
Blood flows--
Like the moon to ocean tides.
Until then she has made
A vow,
A promise to her heart.
To lose herself she won't
Allow--
An eternal work of art.
-b.m.
For the wallflowers, the dandelions, and the moths. For those who sometimes feel less, feel average. The ones often overlooked, often misplaced. You have beauty that goes deeper than what your appearance can exude. You are the dreamers, the artists, the poets. You see the world as it truly is, without the filters and masks. You look past labels because you don't need validation from society to know who you are. A moth is just a butterfly with a different name, after all.
Anatomy of This Blog
Anatomy of this blog: a compilation of poetry--either written by myself or others--artwork, thoughts, emotions; any form of creativity.
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
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