Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2016
I sleep
you die
I walk pavements as you cry,
I towards a bright red bus
You see Evil gates untrussed.

Not here,
but where you are.
Limbs are torn by flying masonary,
wails of pain pierce the air,
no one said this life was fair

Not here,
but there.
the death of loving family care
tears race through dried on dust
there's no one left that you can trust
mt
Written by
mt
276
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems