In a world of misfortune, I thrive,
Its strong words and harsh language that I believe,
The ability to forget is not one that I have,
Fortune is not worthy of my love,
When I grow up with my love of misfortune,
However the world slowly deteriorates,
Once again I am left with nothing,
no ground to ground myself.
I find myself once again,
in the bed with roses,
with IVs in my arm,
and no escape.
YOU ARE READING
My poems, And Random Stuff
RandomI am a soldier. I am the one that is always on the battlefield. With scratch marks, and bruises. I try to carry on, I try to see the light. I reach for my guns, to try and abolish the enemy. The ones that want me dead. But I can't anymore. I've bee...
