Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
Every day a new addiction,
Bleeding out my contradictions.
Soaring lower than even dirt,
My own soul begins to hurt.
I wish to be free;
To fly for me.
I am slave, though.
In everyway,
I've hit my low.
Michael Kenneth Christian
Written by
Michael Kenneth Christian  Texas
(Texas)   
248
   Becki Pearson and Mary
Please log in to view and add comments on poems