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Aug 2014
Coiled around the core
     of my heart
Is a sigh for the *****
     who sold my art.

I was that fiend, lusting for care,
     not long ago,
I wrote the shame on the page I tear,
     I am my foe.

But dead now, is that ***** *****,
     Buried deep within;
I write for me forevermore,
     Yet carry still that sin.
I used to write for the wrong reasons, but not anymore. I'll never let that ***** in me sell me out again.
David Leger
Written by
David Leger  21/M/New Brunswick, Canada
(21/M/New Brunswick, Canada)   
4.6k
 
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