Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2023
For the accumulating mass of noise,
You brought,
Your face - bright with tears, clean with sunlight,
You were going to be,
That was the promise,
You were going to live,
Some heaven, ascension into,
A cleaner kind of pain.
Strawberry Pilgrim
Written by
Strawberry Pilgrim  121/in space somewhere
(121/in space somewhere)   
85
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems