They are as poor as it
As poor as dirt
And
They are pained by it
The way it holds itself together
As they fall apart
And
They are coated in
Dirt
They live off of it
Sucking in the sweet smell
Of the dry
Cracked
Dirt
They live on it
Walking upon the bumpy surface
Of the moist
Damp
Dirt
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Painful Truths
PoésieLife asked Death, "Why do people love me but hate you?" and Death replied, "Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth." (completed) Well. Poems, if you could call them that. Just rambled and rushed night time thoughts. Some of these a...