Fix me, so I wouldn't lose.
Fix my brain so I would crave
For blessings that my mother chooses.
Hurt's not me, for giving up
Is same as letting sand and dust
Slip languidly through slender arms.
Fix me, since these poems do
Appear of lines without a rhyme.
Fix me so I knew who I am writing too.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 4:19 PM UTC
Fix me, so I wouldn't lose.
Fix my brain so I would crave
For blessings that my mother chooses.
Hurt's not me, for giving up
Is same as letting sand and dust
Slip languidly through slender arms.
Fix me, since these poems do
Appear of lines without a rhyme.
Fix me so I knew who I am writing too.
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