she took all she had.
all her beauty
and told me she would be right back
but I should've known,
when she put that worn jacket back upon her shoulders.
she would be doing no such thing.
i tried helping her,
tried giving her all I had to give
but that wasn't enough for a girl, with a worn jacket on her shoulders.
YOU ARE READING
Withered Words
PoetryMy words are withered because they suck. A collection of some of my poems. If they're poems at all. (:
