Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
none of it was art
it was complicated
it deserved to be like the crinkled sheets of paper on the ground
it was a waste

they found it
torn and shredded to tiny pieces
they would take hours to make it uncomplicated
and when they did
it would be a work of art
they knew
April
Written by
April  22/F/NJ
(22/F/NJ)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems