(To the one that was never solved)
Sitting on a page,
on my square-ruled book,
with a solemn face,
you stare at me
with your pleading
eyes,
like a
caged bird.
My brain whelms
in pain, eyes shed
their tears;
My hand surges
up and down.
But you were
never mended.
Your two arms
beside your
two-stripped shoulders
were never the same.
One scrunched;
Other stunted.
Will you ever
fill my lonely
spaces?
Have you ever felt the pain of trying to fix something that is out of your reach? Have you ever thought of why is so?
