broken crayons


I looked down from the sky,
From where I saw the dark of the night,
Swallow quietly the vision of my sight,

So I write with the tears from my eyes,
Flowing from the depth of my heart,
And falls of the salty liquid lits up my writing pad,

A thousand things have made me cry,
Yet, each and every has been a far cry,
From this one that has dug a hole so deep into my core,
And left me faltering this way without no cure.

Day 19 of 100.

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