I see art, everywhere I go.
I can feel it, I can smell it.
In my head and in my heart,
there is art.
On my arms as well but hell!
This is made by myself and it won't go away!
It's all bloody and red,
I love its smell and its looks, but you,
You're worrying.
It's just art, out of my head,
on my arm and not on a paper.
It's beautiful and I will keep it!
(25.04.2021)
YOU ARE READING
Sad Poetry
PoetryI write sad poems. I wanted to share them. I'm not a native speaker. I also write sad poems in German.
