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Poetry

Tattered

Tattered on my sleeves,
Jagged edges of life in vain.
Broken on my knees,
Little pieces of life in pain.

Damned to be lost,
Drifting among waves of silent screams,

Broken, on my knees.

This tattered dress I wear,
A costume of intrigue and despair,
Catch me if you can,
Tell me smile, tell me laugh,
Then set me down in a bubble bath.

Wipe away the stones that catch my skin,
Reminding me of the way again.
Wash my face to clear the way,
Wipe the smoky haze away.

© Krystal Dawn Dailey

❦

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