Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2020
i must confess, i once did love you so
gave you everything to see what beautiful things you could grow
i was the fruit and the tree a long time ago,
and from my knowledge you plucked high and low
and plucked, and plucked, to make yourselves whole
but like a leech you ******,
every last drop from my tired bones
my love now runs cold
and i’ve got nothing left to give but drought and cyclones
from being abused, exploited, and sold
i stand before you beaten, broken, bare
while you, my selfish lovers, continue to breathe my neglected air
Written by
Please log in to view and add comments on poems