Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2016
You hurt me harshly,
with your sticks and stones.
Your words stung my me badly,
and took my throne.
The sky seemed gloomy,
And after the rain , there were the blooming.
You were no more greater than
the footprints in the sand.
Nathan Ha
Written by
Nathan Ha
218
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems