Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2017
Oh, memory strike
down my waning pride,
and like the visceral
oceans in the sky,
fall each dawn as dew,
and surge each paling dusk,
pour like torrents
of monsoons \ hurricanes.
Serve only as a reminder
of the wars I've lost, and
the battles I've just begun.
Memory knows me better than I do.
--
Written by
--  19
(19)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems