In just a few days,
My hand will be severed,
I'll sweat with every move ,
Since I can't handle with logic.
When you didn't come,
All women came,
Digging their nails into the stiff clay.
I will place my knees next to hers,
My tongue will grow lighter, and my legs will grow heavy,
That's because the days pass by, and I don't change my place.
YOU ARE READING
Taste Of Anger
PoetryI choose anger instead of sorrow I prefer madness over sadness I never want to be a victim. cover © : SIILDA
