Boxes

Toxic notions, mixing up potions
Bubble and boil, cauldrons toil.

The words evade me, 
They could've made me - by now - but somehow,
I forget what the words were
I forgot I could speak, I became so weak, inside
I was dying, I couldn't stop from crying, 
I wanted to run and hide.

Perfection is just a reflection, 
An image people perceive to be portraying
A mask to deceive or a mask to achieve? 

Striving for success, 
Trying your best is the best you can do.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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