I'll Help You
See’s clouds are beautiful,
Rolling, unique, and soft,
Her rain is toxic,
Poison leaving a dark matter on your forehead.
See’s mouth is sharp,
Destructive and kills the clouds,
Kills what once was beautiful.
Hope lives in the cracked mirror,
The one her father hadn’t loved,
Fill the cracks, let it scar,
But the clouds will roll beautifully again.
Copyright © Beth Dougherty | Year Posted 2025
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