Golden Hour
Let me tell you a story about a girl
Who saw the world in golden hour
She saw the difference in people
She looked past their skin
And found their soul
Their pain, their beauty,
Their possibilities, and their dreams.
She fell in love with these souls,
Not like boyfriend or girlfriend,
Just how the souls radiated
To the point that she couldn’t even explain it
She held on to them and their energy
But some days it would hit her
Like a little Kansas house
In the middle of a tornado,
The problem with how she was
Is she started to realize,
They would never love her
Like she loves them.
2 thoughts on "Golden Hour"
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Ah, the little Kansas house! Very lovely poem.
Ahhhh that ending is so heart wrenching because I feel I have a good idea of what that is like. This is a poem beautiful and tragic all the same.