The Hand Crafted World of the Prodigy Children

They shuffled in every Page
In every word they flew
They danced in my teardrops
But that you can't do

It all burns from the pressure
Of my reaching grip
The small fragments of people
Trail along my fingertips

They press into me
Our skins never touch
I wish you could do it
But I love them too much

No one has been there
Yet everyone has
Filled spaces within me
Of a thing I can't have

Shut out this earth
You will always run from me
This will all be too much
When I show you it's underbelly

So I dove into it
Popped open a book
No one would swim along me
when they realized my world forever shook.

Guide that inspired this poem: 




Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741