Wet Pillow.

Weary eyed,

Dried from tears,

Rubbed from the burn,

Of water crying out,

For a reason,

To this intuition,

That life will not be as you planned,

And you find yourself here again to stand,

In the shadows of your doubts.

Sore throat,

From the screams,

Your photographs filled with meaning,

The motions of life;

Tragedy,

You realise all is not as it seems,

But then again,

All that'll be remembered is the journey.

So please,

Forgive,

Yourself tonight,

You are allowed to not be perfect,

Pillows can be wet,

And walls can be stained,

But let not your soul remain,

Believing that this is all that you amount to.

You,

Are beautiful,

As a person.