Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
hold my hand
is it cold?
I get cold sometimes
why do you speak?

you must know that I will say to you
how my hand will feel
yet you poke at the beast regardless

and try in vain to feel the warmth of my hand again.
Written by
Marina  17
(17)   
74
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems