I own a land
Worth living
It has a lots of things
And it keeps on giving
When there is less rain
It cracks up
But when there is a lot
It gets overwhelmed
And overflows
When farmers plough and irrigate
The scars bleed
But soon after
The scars grow new flowers
When a tornado hits
Scars vanish
Flowers thrown away
Leaving a barren , empty , field behind
Its every time
Either on farmers
Or on the rain
To make this field sane
Field field
How you doing
I ask
Waiting for rain
Bleeding
It says
YOU ARE READING
Missing | Poetry |
PoetryThese are not poems but thoughts that occurred to me out of no where. Writing long stories was difficult for me. So I tried to write them as poems. There are poems on love and heartbreak and crush and mood swings and many more problems faced by tee...
