Confusion Poem by angelica dela cruz
Confusion
Empty and light,
sure hands write deft
strokes of thoughtless
ink.
A burden on your shoulders
could
only make you stronger?
I chose my fate.
And I keep my
promises.
But my hands
are shaking.
I know what I feel.
Can you see through me?
These words keep
spilling
and almost never
make sense.
What's the point
of writing words
when they
don't make sense?
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5/4/2024 8:53:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
