Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2019
i dug my patch of dirt
with my fingers in repentance

this formality before the hurt
this action my penance.

like these roots that roam
far beyond their means

this heart can't be home
to any semblance of honesty it seems.

with the soil                              a cradle
weighing me down
i see a vision of a mottled crown
the coldness seeping in
and for growth to start somewhere within.
Oskar Erikson
Written by
Oskar Erikson  24/M/London
(24/M/London)   
404
     Bogdan Dragos and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems