Sculpture
I am a sculpture
Crafted from the materials
Of being scolded,
I'm molded
From being told that
What I am is not who I ought to be
And where I'm going is not the best place for me.
Lost with this concept
My hear full of hatred
and my hands fill wit guilt
Curling my fingers around the judgement
And the grudges
Until it seeps
through the creases
Of my knuckles
Unable to drop it
until I've found clarity
Until I've found somewhere to place it.
Copyright © Kjerstine Willis | Year Posted 2018
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