Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2012
Do you remember when,
everything was new?
You, me, everything,
what wrong could we do?

The golden sun used to shine,
even on the darkest days.
Now that golden sun has set,
far, far away.

And the rivers of love are dried up,
into thin air.
Leaving my heart thirsty, dying,
searching for water to spare.

And the wilderness has burnt,
went up in flames.
As you continued to **** me dry,
played me like a game.

My world is burnt up, dried up, dead,
since you left me,
since you played with my head.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Barry Andrew Pietrantonio
Written by
Barry Andrew Pietrantonio  29/M/Salem, New Hampshire
(29/M/Salem, New Hampshire)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems