Discovery

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Discovery

Broken hearts and empty dreams
Discarded lies unfolding seams
Who knows where and who knows when
This crumbling path first began?

Maybe deciet or impurity
Perhaps my own insecurity
Maybe the knowledge of where it first started
Could bring me back to the path I've discarded

But there comes a time when lies become truth
And I start to ask myself, what's the use?
In pretending who you see is not really me
When that's exactly the person I've come to be

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If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

serenity10’s Poems (20)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Incomplete 0
The Whole 0
I forever Bleed 1
Tribute 1
Discovery 0
Rejected 1
Pure Misery 1
Getting By 0
Regret 0
Me 0
Fly Away 0
Constant Emptiness 0
Life 0
Running 0
Peace 0
Toilet Paper Blues 0
Solid Ground 0
Understand 0
Perfection 0
Journey to Heaven 0