Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2018
Guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt
Ticks, like a crosswalk, within.
Cold, clanging, buried.
Ever have a sound whisper to your soul? I hear the word guilt as the crosswalk counts down.
D Baby Bey
Written by
D Baby Bey  26/M/U.S.A
(26/M/U.S.A)   
182
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems