These roots are deep
They stretch far, they stretch wide
This fruit, itself it won't reap
But here, it's time it will bide
So many rings
My age it will tell
And so many things
And when I must have fell
Around my twisted base
Leaves lay shriveled and broken
It's becoming such a race
Around my roots of oak and
Around me this old empty pain lays
Void, and desolate for the rest of my days.
YOU ARE READING
Kerosene Heart
PoesiaPreviously known as The Poems Of My Heart ~ "These words cause me to burn, And my kerosene heart only makes the fire brighter." ~ I think in poetry so this is just full of my weird poems. Most are just really short. Sorry, if it gets depressing... B...
