Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
I picked apart your every imperfection
And raised them on a pedestal
I let the Gods adore you
Glorify you.

But I presume that whilst trying to find a stairway to Heaven
I trembled into the storms of Hell
For I didn’t existence in your presence
So I didn’t exist at all
Written by
jess
782
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems