Cut Off

No remorse for the dead flower,

Feeling placed in a waste basket.

Full of wet tissues and chocolate wrappers,

The head dangles in between a gap.

No Tylenol or Advil could kill what’s in her head,

The heart is crippled but, God is her crutch.

Instead of rebuilding, she remains shun,

Her reflection never walked away ,but no matter where she looked she couldn’t find the girl she use to be.

Don’t turn your back on yourself,

Walk the lands until they become vacant.

 See the truth,

Her name is Faith.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: