Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2014
Schoolmates I taunted, weaker than I.
The pain I suffered, I shed on them.
But now reminded, their pain is mine.
Memories of youth have become my enemy.
The spear is sharp.
The point pressed against my chest,
drawing nearer toward my heart.
George Maris
Written by
George Maris
Please log in to view and add comments on poems