segunda-feira, 27 de fevereiro de 2017


The thorns
which prick me
and the stones
wich I am thrown at
- bruising and scarring -
cannot bid me forget
the scent and the beauty.

Which might mean
that even if my blood spills
and agony seems to kill
I am still here,
I am still alive;
my skin is marked
but it proves I can survive.


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