Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2021
As the sun lowers down,
My tears cannot run up any longer.
It becomes a river,
Filled with blood of my own.
The knife that slits through,
Is the only one who shall have known,
The pain was filled with hope,
But streaming down an endless hole,
To be never seen again.
Written by
beingcoolisaflex
116
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems