Sometimes the most beautiful things
Are heartbreakingly so.
Our heroes grow up tormented
Their rise to triumph slow.
Sometimes they’re like
The flower in the concrete
A refreshing break through
The trials and mistreat.
Sometimes they’re like
The ancient castle’s ruined stone
A scar of someone’s passed defeat
Left for photographs to hone.
Sometimes still they are what we are
An insecure child of average upbringing
“Massive characters seared with scars”
Who decide to keep living.

About irishstag2013

I'm an amateur writer, just doing this for fun. "Trying to find the magic. Trying to write a classic. Waste bin full of paper" -Natasha Bedingfield
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