Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2020
I don't think anyone has been this gentle
with me before.

I've never had something I want
to give back so desperately.

The doubts, the fears, I want to rip them
up like weeds. It's slow going.

I know it isn't fair
to worship someone

so I'm finding another word for it
because it's too late for me.

Keep what you stole.
I don't mind.
Written by
Sam  25/M/Denver, CO
(25/M/Denver, CO)   
124
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems