Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Covering my battered soul with a grin, And I carry my longing to meet you soon in my spirits, Maybe you'd heal my scars with your touch, No, the timing have to match, Yes, I have to wait, If it means confronting the bruises on my body of someone's hate, You will come won't you? It's the least thing I expect life to do, Granting the exemption, To reach the day of explanation, Yet here I wait for my closure, What's that you ask? My death, My life's dusk.
0
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 9:22 AM UTC
Last Exemption
Covering my battered soul with a grin, And I carry my longing to meet you soon in my spirits, Maybe you'd heal my scars with your touch, No, the timing have to match, Yes, I have to wait, If it means confronting the bruises on my body of someone's hate, You will come won't you? It's the least thing I expect life to do, Granting the exemption, To reach the day of explanation, Yet here I wait for my closure, What's that you ask? My death, My life's dusk.
That it will come never again is what makes life so sweet. -Emily Dickinson
Mlightfier2709
Written by
18/F/INDIA
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 9:22 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem