Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2011
Day
It repeats short bursts
over and
over and
over.

Repetition after repetition,
time after time
It circles.

I am laid naked upon the cross of life
and you bare my front for me,
no more.

Are these my tears or just useless shower-water?
I'm stained.
How
Written by
How
647
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems