Natasha Elizabeth Beatrice Williams (30/11/1994 / Birmingham)
Pull pain from my feet.
Pull weakness from my ankles.
Pull pins and needles from my thighs.
Pull lust from my lions.
Pull disgust from my stomach.
Pull precious air from my lungs.
Pull sweet love from my heart.
Pull strength from my shoulders.
Pull sense from my mouth.
Pull peace from my nose.
Pull emotions from my eyes.
Pull my soul out of my brain.
For without you, all of my gifts and talents seem like devil's work and not God's gifts.
For without you, all the struggle to get to where you are means nothing.
For without you, I lose the best friend I always wished to have.
I love you.
Comments about this poem (Pull by Natasha Elizabeth Beatrice Williams )
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