Tell me the story of
a heart that bleeds,
but can never bleed.
Tell me the story of
a heart that loves,
but can never love.
And I’ll tell you the story of
a tender heart,
become as stone.
*I was rummaging through an old notebook and came across this poem I had written a few years back. I’m embarrassed by it, as I am all my writing. But from what I can tell writers keep writing essays, poets keep writing poems, musicians keep making music, preachers keep preaching. And you offer it all up. For critique. For praise. Maybe you grow. Maybe you don’t.
You should never be embarrassed of your writing. It is so beautiful !
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Thanks you, Cheri.
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