Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2014
Ash
He found me in ash. Too delicate to be held.
Ready and willing to crumble.
He tried to smoke what was left; looking for high.
All that was left of me was burn.
Grace Carol Siplon
Written by
Grace Carol Siplon
443
     r, Yael Zivan and Gigi Tiji
Please log in to view and add comments on poems