Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 26
when will I be free from these thick iron chains?
the ones that keep me here in a cell
that's much too small for my aching limbs
I am a starving, dying tree.
my thoughts fill up this void and make it hard to breathe,
drowning in a thousand words of my own creation
no one around to hear
after all, the tree in the forest did fall, the noise crashing across the forest
benny
Written by
benny  20/Agender/SLC
(20/Agender/SLC)   
53
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems