Your Precious Things (To Me, They Are Brave)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: January 15, 2018

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Submitted: January 15, 2018

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The softer sigh

The awkward cry

The jagged tear

That reappears 

The tiny spark

Within the dark

That lifts your chin

And takes you in.

Your precious things

Did not grow wings

They may have choked

They might be broke

Yet they remain

And stay the same 

Beneath the lies,

Behind your eyes.

So sort them out

Brave heart so stout,

And you will find why your song is loud.


© Copyright 2018 B.B. Hatt. All rights reserved.