pressing fingernails into palms
hands start to shake
legs can't stop jiggling
how much more can you take?
face as red as roses
palms are sweaty now
you're a tradegy, wasted talent
now take your sorry bow
YOU ARE READING
dark poems
Poetrythis seems like poetry and prose sometimes it's more than you'd suppose see, what my mind creates, goes but what that is, nobody knows
