My thoughts are nothing but a rusty gate swaying in the winds,
but my voice,
my voice is power.
My heart is simply opended,
like a blossoming flower,
for the world to enjoy.
The broken do not have a voice 24/7.
Our world has the twisted thought that the broken are to be ignored.
That we must eliminate the old, and replace with the new.
That the broken do not deserve the open door!
That the broken are to be disposed of,
but I write to say that the broken are beautiful.
That the half crooked smiles represent true beauty.
The broken are full of hope!
Because when you are broken,
you are in the need of your designer.
You are on your very knees hoping you do not bend or break.
But you do.
I write for the ones who search for a purpose,
for their creator.
In a sense, we are all broken.
In a sense, we all search for a purpose,
Because we all want answers.
We all want to know why our mother was the one who was diagnosed with cancer,
We all want to know why that girl you spent so much time on just decided to pack her bags,
along with your heart and simply leave?
We all want to know why we were born into poverty while the rich chuckle at our sorrow.
We are all broken people,
So i dedicate my voice to the weak, to the sick, to the ones who have the exact thoughts my poems portray.
I write for the world.