Blosommets

Some pieces are broken;

words that stabbed them,

actions that slammed them.

Pieces switched with fake love,

stitched with true loathe.

We carry pieces of hearts,

that are not ours.

For the rest of our lives,

we carry pieces of other people’s hearts.

The people we meet;

The people we love.

They call me by many names;

Mostly known as the first ring of hell.

My citizens are the ones who believe they are gods,

Thinking of others as their slaves,

Not knowing it will lead them to their graves.

Through the dense shadows,

There is a beast to be found.

The jailer of my reign. 

It’s name never mentioned by the people inside;

They fear and know the power it has;

For it was the guide in their life.

He takes my subjects,

Dragging them on the ground.

They go oppressed with great weights

Into dungeons known as selfishness. 

In every corner, in all angles

There are mirrors to be found. 

The punishment for those who only look upon themselves.

Think of your notebooks as one of those boards portrayed in mystery novels. You "fill them as you understand".

Start with the basic knowledge, what the teacher gives you.

Then, fill it in with reviews, additional details, examples connections, etc.

Everything to discover the mystery of the topic being studied.