Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014
I know what's
Beyond the curtains and It's just
an emptier room.

It's like I'm stuck
At the bottom of a well and all
I can mange to do is look up and
Shrug my shoulders.

Buildings crumble,
Sculptures fade,
Why make art if it always rains?
Annabella
Written by
Annabella  PA
(PA)   
431
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems