Broken
The flowers were always plastic,
but you kept watering them,
forcing them to be real.
Locks and chains
are no truth, no free will.
They leave only
a silent prisoner.
But the water that was not needed
finally poured over.
And that is why I broke free.
Poetry by kladdpapper
Read 937 times
Written on 2007-02-28 at 17:56
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by kladdpapper Latest textsLivetA Mother’s Heart Depressionen tog min vän I need you Lurendrejeri My favoritesThe Museum of Depressiongot to breathe somewhere |
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