Dampen your ego with my blood.
Wrap your religion with my leather skin.
My thoughts are cycling
through streets of danger;
once in a while I'll catch a butterfly land
on my frail fingertips.
I've already started to see my eyes wrinkling.
I'm aging fast while the years grow slow
and countries cast control while I
cry on father's wooden floors.
Nothing is ever enough to prove to you;
with your idolized greed for power,
that I'm worthy of a single breath I breathe
and I've only just left my teens.
I'm dying fast while I feel out of control
and every word seems like I'm being pushed
into the waves of the unknown.
I'm all alone.
I'm all alone.
If a rich dude could give me
a place to stay, a place to breathe—
no strings attached.
I would live in peace.
"Living a free life in the USA"
is like a lie to me,
a blatant attempt to persuade
the land to be free...
Well, you won, I guess
take your biblical trophy.
You let me down.
YOU ARE READING
It's Raining Outside
Poetry[Completed] 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃. I don't know how else to say this, but... 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐬; 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧�...
