Valued less than the ground that you spit on I’m still here, in the front of your mind Possessive and angered at thoughts Struggling to get to get out, or back inside Sitting alone, drinking it all until I forget Forgetting the false promises made Stare at what I can from the corner of my room Or stare at my reflection in the shine of a blade See me rise above everything you saw in the past Until I cant get any higher Burnt out at the end of this long road Like a flame, of the even the fireBirth sign: Libra
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by B.Waterman.