Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
She wears a cloak, You can't identify her, She wears a long hood, You can't see her. She pretends she's all right, But her eyes still got that flame, She never shows her wounds, For her, life is a game. She didn't find herself, Never seen, who she was, But finally, when she was exposed, Each face turned, each eye just closed. A fair lady, with blood covered eyes, Flames burnt her, Scares covered her Tears made it worse, Maybe being a woman, Was her curse. She was crying, but still smiled, She wanted to die, But has to survive, She can't make it now, She was dead alive.
0
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 8:36 AM UTC
Dead Alive
She wears a cloak, You can't identify her, She wears a long hood, You can't see her. She pretends she's all right, But her eyes still got that flame, She never shows her wounds, For her, life is a game. She didn't find herself, Never seen, who she was, But finally, when she was exposed, Each face turned, each eye just closed. A fair lady, with blood covered eyes, Flames burnt her, Scares covered her Tears made it worse, Maybe being a woman, Was her curse. She was crying, but still smiled, She wanted to die, But has to survive, She can't make it now, She was dead alive.
PoetryLove
Written by
16/F/India
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 8:36 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem