Stripped bare to nothing but a soul,
obscured to the human eye,
chained modesty to mockery,
my desolation seeks a cry.
Embracing neglect and vacancy,
enabling my heart to conceal,
the potency of my love for him,
and the hunger I have to feel.
A fine line between fragility and strength,
perceiving the injustice he's done,
yet with the perception, my heart believes,
he's failed to complete what he's done.
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Comments about this poem (Bare by Lilyann Monahan )
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