The Brown Eyed Dreamer

'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth


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Broken Souls

The trouble with us,
Is we don’t let anyone know,
What’s going on in our heads,
Until it’s too late.
Then we run to the arms of our parents,
And shatter like glass at their feet,
The cracks of our broken souls stare back at them,
And they’re left to pick up the pieces.

[Taken from my other blog, Imagine.]