Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2014
I was born inside a withered casket,
Dropped on a stoop in a broken basket,
The love grew into a masquerade,
Your love was the mask of bitter hate,
Isolation drew me closer to madness,
The darkness alone relieved my sadness.
Written by
Matthew Mefford  U.S.A.
(U.S.A.)   
282
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems