Discombobulated, I muster up the last of my shambles,
Standing beneath the mightiest borealis,
Fingers crossed, Soul survivors tired of judgements,
I bruise as a capillary from wrath of your gavel.
I know my crutches are painful but let me just stand straight for once,
Caressing the troposphere with my hands high,
Let me stare that limitless sky with these lantern eyes!
You say its not for me,
This light ,this stars, this sky…
Dismantled mirror ball was not tabbed with perfection by this nature.
The Moon with flaws tells me “The creator loves ALL his creations”
So let me just blink my eyes at your falcated emotions!
I know am erroneous,
But like some broken crayon,
The irony will color your portrait the same,
I know am sibilant when I sing ,
for you have vandalized these vocal strings!
But dancing daisy amaze me parallel to some cuckoo’s halo of angelic euphony.
I know I am no chef D’oevre ,
But just my mumma’s broken boy..
The one Who can love,
The one Who can smile!