Learn more about other poetry terms
Inside me I hold something sacred It is alway something given and never taken What I hold is my light, my only source of pure It is so precious I must watch who I give it to My light is apart of my spirit
Light and dark isn’t always clear Most people walk in the gray And the gray is what most people fear What if the light is what is wrong? If what is wrong is what is light is it right?
And you've been missing from my life Nothing good was ever mine There is just nowhere to hide I always come under the light Don't know how to go and fight I lost everything before I even had it
After the door shuts and the footsteps die In the quietness the baby cries And in the air frustrations fly When the crying stops the mom sighs In the crib the baby lies Mom can rest now as she walks away