A cracked pot filled with nothing but air.
A soul filled with nothing but doubts.
A mind filled with nothing but questions for which there will never be answers.
A body that grows older but will never be old enough to keep all the questions inside.
Eyes that hold nothing but a sorrow stored deep within parts unfamiliar.
A world filled with nothing but deadly sins that could never be repaired.
Friendships questioned with every minute that goes by.
Stress burgeoning heavy on all’s shoulders.
No one knows quite how to be open enough to suit anyone else.
A cracked pot filled with nothing but air,
Has little to fill it.
The terror that it would cause if spilled.
A person questioning who they are,
Heavy of heart and soul,
Holding knowledge that there is little that can be kept within a cracked pot.
Struggling to perceive moments as they are instead of with a dismal lucidity.
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