They they they
so sick of they one could outline
the cracks and potholes drilled
on one's heart , one would collapse
from dehydration induced by they.
They inhale , sucking all moisture left with you.
They pick and poke, you'd swear ones got a flatted heart.
brings the heart weaker.
Always in dismay,
Shall one in their soul's bind last?
Oh Thee God out there
receive waves my cries make?
One's weary frail heart
lays awakened and open to Thy salvation.
They ought to know that those who take notice of 'they' are only following one another. All of them duplicates, wanting, trying to conform. Do they know that they feel the pressure of they. They should break free from 'they' and try individuality.
I like your turn of phrase, like 'They pick and poke, you'd swear ones got a flatted heart.'
Welcome to PnQ. I hope you enjoy your stay.
P.s. thanks for your lovely comment - it was nice to come home to. :)