Hello P**try
Classics
Words
Blog
F.A.Q.
About
Contact
Guidelines
© 2024 HePo
by
Eliot
Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads.
Become a member
Elicia Hurst
Poems
Apr 2018
Not all learned to climb the Sycamore
Master made a tax collector out of me,
Graced me with the scent of gold,
Fresh and stale and warm and cold.
The masses warned me for my fate to be
"The Forth Circle awaits, behold!"
In hushed whispers I was told.
But a poor, blind man now I cannot see
The price upon my head sold,
One more soul to collection old.
Feb 2015
#guilt
#morality
#repentance
#soul
#evil
#condemnation
#trapped
Written by
Elicia Hurst
Follow
😀
😂
😍
😊
😌
🤯
🤓
💪
🤔
😕
😨
🤤
🙁
😢
😭
🤬
0
452
Please
log in
to view and add comments on poems