Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2017
Angels laugh,
At my suffering.
My body is no temple,
And when you touch me
They are entranced
My silent sobbing
Is the music,
That falls in the back
Of their Sunday evening soap.
At least I'm entertaining.
Amulet Atari
Written by
Amulet Atari  17/bed
(17/bed)   
  794
   Rich Harney, Glass, WalkerZ, Kim and rodeo clown
Please log in to view and add comments on poems