Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2017
There are sickly people in this mental ward,
their hearts ablaze and their bodies bruised
their fathers passed, ashtrays well worn

their hearts full of hope, their bodies blue
their mothers lovely, their skin still soft.
There are pretty people in this mental ward.
Written by
     Alex McQuate, --- and rose
Please log in to view and add comments on poems