She wears a little gown,
her body feels so cold.
Soaked up by the water,
like the stories- untold.
Here and there with some scars,
her hands so violet.
It's the end that she chose,
It's too late to regret.
Her eyes are wide open,
the look she has is sad.
No desire to live,
She chose to be dead.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
She wears a little gown,
her body feels so cold.
Soaked up by the water,
like the stories- untold.
Here and there with some scars,
her hands so violet.
It's the end that she chose,
It's too late to regret.
Her eyes are wide open,
the look she has is sad.
No desire to live,
She chose to be dead.
drifting on the surfaces is by Sandra Stolnik
I decided to share this poem with you guys!