Cracks in my character, like veins in old marble,
showing where the pressure got too much.
I smile like nothing’s wrong,
but the lines run deep,
and every kind word chips away a little more.
And the chips crumble, fall to the ground,
turned to dust in the slightest wind.
They scatter, forgotten, while I stand,
still smiling, still cracked,
wondering how much of me is left.
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Author:
ROSHI (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 19th, 2026 17:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
Comments1
Unless I am suffering from deja vu this is a rework of one that you posted the other day and it reads well
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