Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2022
I glide through green lights,

obliterating double lines,

hoping i can still see the great divine,

dishonored by three bottles of red wine.

but i still remember crying at the station,

calling you from my driver's side,

bruised, cut and unkind,

begging you to stay in my life.
Written by
charles  29/M
(29/M)   
138
     PRETA PEACE NAMASABA and REY
Please log in to view and add comments on poems