Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2015
He smokes cigarettes to set the ocean on fire.
And before he can even dry a drop
from the salty carnival of waves,
he has already consumed most of himself.
While the ocean, the waves, all of it-
will not mourn for him no matter
how it roars of blue,
no matter how it bowls
the most ardent tears
lavishly.
Hanna Mae Mata
Written by
Hanna Mae Mata  21/F/Ph
(21/F/Ph)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems