Poets

Tell me of pain, what you know of it. Is it to be feared, or guarded against like a tangible foe? Do you seek it, or merely accept it

When I think of how life used to be, how I always hid in the shadows, letting it obscure my existence. I look at everything you have given me:

My dreams shattered in the tense stillness as endless threats and blows clothe my form My stomach flutters in familiar fear and I am ashamed of my weakness