Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2013
Untitled 001
My hands are dying,
My heart is seized,
and my mind is chaos.

What that means for my future,
Now, that I have no clue.
All I can repeatedly think of
is one single, solitary word.

Why?

N.N.B
Written by
NoVera Nichole Bennett  Melancholia
(Melancholia)   
367
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems