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We all have something to praise, A god, a person, an object. He always told me he praised the sun. Soon, I became his sun. I never understood when he said I’m the light of his life. Because to me, He was the sun. He brought warmth to everyone he passed. And then I looked inside him, and was shocked. The sun that had always shone so bright was dim and collapsing in on itself. It felt like looking in a mirror. At that moment, I finally understood, That I truly am his sun, And he is mine.
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 1:23 PM UTC
The Sun
We all have something to praise, A god, a person, an object. He always told me he praised the sun. Soon, I became his sun. I never understood when he said I’m the light of his life. Because to me, He was the sun. He brought warmth to everyone he passed. And then I looked inside him, and was shocked. The sun that had always shone so bright was dim and collapsing in on itself. It felt like looking in a mirror. At that moment, I finally understood, That I truly am his sun, And he is mine.
I know it's pretty bad, but it's my first poem and it's about someone that means a lot to me. I'm kind of embarrassed about publishing it, nut I thought I'd give it a go.
blissfulleedumb
Written by
17/Cisgender Female/Hurricane, WV
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 1:23 PM UTC
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