Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2018
There’s residue on my torso, dark twisted and tainted by blood.
I’ve seen this once before, convinced that I would never be here again
The aesthetics are casualties of war.
I’ve lost control of the cannon in my chest.
Rsebd
Written by
Rsebd  29/M/KY
(29/M/KY)   
  425
     Rick the shoe shine boy, Heavenly and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems