wounds in words

Bullets come in many forms

Some in metal, some in words

and when life declares the storms

We all become vulnerable birds

Inside each person lies a thorn

That keeps the pain in us awake

from the moment we were born

all the smiles we share are fake

The poems I write are about strength

That comes after every fight

every fight has its own length

each ends with a hope so bright

You promise yourself once again

Not to do it anymore

you try to tame the why and when

and all the memories from before

yet, when you face yourself and talk

everything seems so far away

you start to crawl, run, or walk

but in your place, you seem to stay

in love, each one has his own measurements

each one has his way to express the feeling

in life there might be four elements

but in love the rules are soaring, freewheeling

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