Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2013
Her
she became translucent
she was sick, I could tell
by the way she talked

I could see that she was falling
keeping silent to all
wasting away

I wish I could of saved me
before I became her
Samantha Steele
Written by
Samantha Steele  The Dirty South
(The Dirty South)   
253
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems