There are holes in my shield.
Like Atlas holding up the sky breaking under the pressure.
No one knows the scars I hold
I pass walls of emotions
Fear
Anger
Hate
Stress.
Strong on the outside
Looking like life is perfect.
Inside crumbling
almost beyond
My breaking point.
I stop, reconsider
Hope builds scaffolding
Patches the holes
Gives me aspiration.
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Author:
M.E.M. (
Offline) - Published: October 16th, 2017 11:22
- Comment from author about the poem: First poem. Yay
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 39
Offline)
Comments2
A fine metaphor on all-important hope, M.E.M. Welcome to MPS!
Good positive write. Welcome to MPS.
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