Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Shocking ends, and brand new lies, sit behind, covered eyes. Little tips, and discolored lips, strangely there, in a discreet air. Ticking clocks, and mismatched socks, unique ideas, wrapped in tears. Shaking hands, and disheveled strands, of long thin hair, you're without an heir. Strangled air, and you're without a care, that this lack of support, is all you'll report. And when you die, you'll hear a lullaby, of when lives tend, to reach a shocking end.
0
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC
Shocking Ends
Shocking ends, and brand new lies, sit behind, covered eyes. Little tips, and discolored lips, strangely there, in a discreet air. Ticking clocks, and mismatched socks, unique ideas, wrapped in tears. Shaking hands, and disheveled strands, of long thin hair, you're without an heir. Strangled air, and you're without a care, that this lack of support, is all you'll report. And when you die, you'll hear a lullaby, of when lives tend, to reach a shocking end.
tatiana
Written by
27/F/American
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem