Poetry Provision of facing difficulties.

When people beat the rug,
The blows are not for rugs,
But create dust on it.

If you can't stand being rubbed,
When will your mirror shine?

Sadness is in tatters
Old coats
That protects the body,
Later dislodged
Only sweet taste
The results of the appearance of complaints.

Why is it so hard to open the door
Between us
Though the entire wall is just an illusion.

Do not let
They think we have collapsed or broken.
We just
Shed the leaves for the following spring.

I'm this hair,
I'm not this skin,
I am the soul that lives inside

This is my offering of poetry, I hope you enjoy it

Thanks to @dobartim for organizing this contest

And thanks to everyone who participated in supporting this poetry game contest
@steemcurator01 @xpilar @sultan-aceh @stephenkendal and many others