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Carlie Sims Mar 2018
flowers laid perfectly in a path
silk colored of pink welcomes her mighty wrath
young girls look up to see the image of beauty, kindness, and love
gentlemen see her as the image of above
all hail the perfect
all bow and worship
her mother and father loved her since the day she was born
they knew she would keep the world from being torn
she walks down that path as the angels sing
but soon follows every human being
the world has a blindspot for seeing the normal this way
every blended person seems to save the day
the broad picture of society
it brings nothing of variety
but can you blame
wanting to be viewed with glory and fame
the image of picture perfect stands and wanders
making everyone want to be a follower
Carlie Sims Jan 2018
She opens her front door only to find the works of god twisted and held under the hands of the devil
She opens the door only to find a wrath screaming and ******* making her unleveled
A wrath from her father who sings in pain and her mother who lost her sane
She tried to open the door yet each time turned her away
Her back is against the wall
She starts to collect dust and soon she starts to fade
Behind it lies insanity yet she knows that that is just humanity
She can’t see
So leave her, wannabe
Swimming pools of tears
Collected from all of these years
She wants to go outside
But her world may just collide
So the door is still kept closed from her soul
For if opened the front porch may swallow her whole
Carlie Sims Jan 2018
I never can tell the high from the low
It’s almost like each time she starts to go
go from my heart slip from my hands
but when she gets back it’s all according to the plan
our friendship is glass
it can be glued back together but there are still cracks
Every loud scream turns to a whisper
She holds it all against her
No matter what I do
I’m always the bad guy to you
Carlie Sims Nov 2017
in order to heal you have to know what broke you
yet nothing has broke me
at least not that i know of
i am unhealed
i am clueless
i guess ill just stay broken
Carlie Sims Nov 2017
Sometimes I invite sin over to my house
I open the door and there it is
I invite it in with a welcoming smile offering tea
But sin, is a tricky friend
It leaves things at my house every time it comes over
All that does is give it a reason to come back
Every single time it comes back and knocks on my door
I see the hate and lonesome in its eyes
Yet still I seem invite it in

— The End —