Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2014
When you give one rib for every woman you ever love
Eventually all you have left is your spine.
I don’t know whether to forget this and brush it aside
Or to just say I am tired and continue to let it lie
I guess I’ll find out what I’m made of
Joseph the Dreamer
Written by
Joseph the Dreamer  clarkston ga
(clarkston ga)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems