i am like the river pebbles

gathered from the shallow end too near the shore

corked into a little bottle to feel the water no more

i am like the broken twig

plucked and placed into a fragile vase

no wind now for me to face

i am the captive lioness

desperate to run, to feel the satisfaction of the kill

that means my pride will have their fill

i am the formless artist but yet the unseen muse

fervent to create some beauty

still yearning to be found lovely

taken out of my element

no force for me to reckon with

my instincts burning unspent

i long to display my strength, and to unveil my vulnerability

but I am weak


One thought on “weak

  1. Pingback: what can I do | notthestateofmyhouse

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