Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
/
poetry is a sin
of its own
and the writer
is its perpetrator

the words were my jail cell
my mind, the judge
locked forever
with the sentence of broken stanzas

there is no end
to this crime
just like its beginning
never existed

(b.d.s.)
shåi
Written by
shåi  Androgynous/sound frequencies
(Androgynous/sound frequencies)   
412
   Tryst, --- and Erenn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems