Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2019
My son and daughter, your father's heart is slaughtered, I feel I'm bothered, by many stints that's tense, they wanted, to keep me on it, and their impression gets me tested and I get expressive, rapidly depressive once excessive use of force stresses, that I'm exempted, and only tempted, to perceive my ways as if they pay to be a tenant, that's not relented, a second chance to try repenting, of all my pending, misdeeds, they lead as if they cleave, to be a bother, so plot me smaller, in a light where change remains my caller, I need that HOLY WATER.
Written by
Cyclone  22/M/Houston, TX
(22/M/Houston, TX)   
89
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems