Passport
a poem | five minute friday piece
we hide
from life’s
hammers
the ones that threaten
then smash
and leave us with
broken pieces
it hurts and
it isn’t fair and
if we could read crystal balls
maybe
our world wouldn’t
shatter quite so much
but when the heavy iron
falls and the shards
splinter apart
we find out
exactly
what’s inside
no place to
hide anymore
that latent
self
the one made
good and beautiful with
good and beautiful dreams
crafted by a
good and beautiful
soul
now has a passport
to where she’s always
belonged
straight through those
broken fragments
into the wild
air
This piece first appeared at amandadzimianski.com.
