Burdon Poem by Cyerra Ashby
Burdon
The fire has stopped
But my guilt continues
I hate myself
But so do you
The hidden motives
Lie behind your eyes
Death seems to be-
Well, the only option
I just can't take this
Hell of a burdon
Everything is WRONG
My face,
My personality,
Me a whole,
Day by day
My life crumbles
As does the building
I turn to dust
As the time wastes away
I'm just finished
with it all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/23/2024 10:39:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
