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Metaphor
Memories are a pair of hands
Effortlessly constructing our lives
Thoroughly carving every single little feeling into our soul
All the bumps and bruises projected onto a piece of art
People don’t understand, they just can’t comprehend
How everything we go through shapes us
Observe as we create scars to prove what we’ve learned
Remember the good and endeavor the bad.
My body belongs in a museum
Every single soul roaming the earth should be framed
They are representations of a life well lived whether we believe it to be or not
Any person could see another’s timeline through the marks of a body
Perhaps you see them but don’t truly and fully understand them
How they seem but not how they are or what they feel
Only you didn’t know that you must look deeper, to
Read the art, look not with your eyes but with your heart and mind.
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