Sometimes I smile, sometimes I cry,
I am no poet, but I serve poetic wines.
I hide my pain, in metaphors no one can see through,
A veil protecting my bleeding scars, from the judgement of other’s views.
And I feel tired at times, of writing romantic rhymes,
Wishing to sometimes show the world, a glimpse into my grey skies.
But I can’t stand sympathy, and I can’t spread pain,
I want my heart to be truly happy, and for once breathe in the rain.
Songs bursting through my soul, cause the moments in my lyrics are real,
Life healed, heart loved, in sheer gratitude I would kneel.
And offer Him all my love, all my poetic petals and rhymes,
feel his gentle hands stroke my hair, and bask in the ambrosia of life.
©© SONA , December 11th 2018
All Rights Reserved.