You say the tinman has nothing on you, but you can love.
I know that's true.
And no, that does not come from above, but it does come from within.
Darling, you are the Earth.
Made of stars, and sand, and sin.
Mountains, frogs, human beings, Earth.
And maybe there is a grand design created by an eye in the sky, but either
way you will die and everything, everything will still be alright.
Because you can break yourself down physically, mentally, and permanently,
but through every slash, every thought, every sound your body, your Earth,
will fight to keep you breathing.
Will fight to keep you with me.
Get AI Feedback on your poem
Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
If You Need Support
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741