Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2017
tell me can you love my black
even when it's about to crack
falling through gates of hell
your black don't crack but mine did
after too many lies and too many wounds that never healed before others grew
your black don't crack but mine did
after too many burns by kind actions with ill intent and too many souls that came but did not stay
your black don't crack but mine did
after too many cries of help that went unanswered and too many words that went unsaid
-Mena W.
Philomena
Written by
Philomena  F/Washington, d.c.
(F/Washington, d.c.)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems