I see...

Unbalanced,

this world tittering me on the edge.

Confusion is the chaos,

as chaos is the rule.

Trying to be the doll,

so perfect seeming indeed...

Yet not many notice,

the doll is hollow.

I see,

imperfection in it's beauty and ugliness.

The me that stands is cracked,

under the pressure my own mind creates.

Ruins of old self,

pieces used to create the new.

Within death comes life,

cycles unbroken.

I see,

the future that could be.

The me that is to come,

shrouded in time...

Reviews

[Annabelle Lee]

This was a lyrical masterpiece. what a poem!