Sonnet 8.

It’s okay to be rough round the edges,
To be bruised up, wounded, broken, and scarred;
But don’t let people say those images
Are reasons for you to change who you are.
Your every single thought might goes unheard,
And all your true feelings might be confined;
And sometimes you might feel just like a word
That no one has ever learnt to define.
I know those moments changed your day and night,
But let them make you stronger and better,
And let them thrill you with our love’s own might,
So you won’t turned so spitefully bitter.
            Despite your broken wings and tattered mess,
            Know that you’re still my angel nonetheless.




I think there’s something wrong with the world.
No one says what they really feel, they always hold it inside.
They’re sad, but they don’t cry.
They’re happy, but they don’t dance or sing.
They’re angry, but they don’t scream.
Because if they do, they feel ashamed, and that’s the worst feeling in the world.
So everyone walks with their heads down.
And no one sees how beautiful the sky is.
I wish she could put herself in my shoes and see herself from my side.
So she would understand how I really feel about all that’s happening between me and her.


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