deepundergroundpoetry.com

Window

I'm sitting,
Waging war within.

The turmoil shifts and shapes this man you hate to have to love.

Looking in, your own struggle is apparent but not mine to bear.

Windows.

Thin skin is broken again,
Target and tear.

So much empathy for me,
But unfortunately I won't care.

A window into the chrysalis.

Wings not meant for wind,
Worms at work again.
Written by Troubled_1
Published
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