Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2014
Windshields hide Him from me.
The touch of man; the sin is mine.
The accident left me buried at fifteen.
Death came from me then.
Again.
I thought death could not reach me
through these ***** windshields.
IT can though, the death that lives.
Pleased to Meet You
Written by
Pleased to Meet You  California
(California)   
  886
     Bloom, EJ Aghassi, Arcassin B, ---, Daisy May and 2 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems