They all wear the regalia whilst I do not,
Sickening as it is my stomach clucks,
Bringing babies as the stars so bright,
My own wobbles until its breath alights,
Their hands dig and reach for gold,
My own only brings dull soles,
Worthless, useless, my mind calls,
Shrilling, eating till its only overhaul,
Someday, soon the day, my stars will fly,
Then they'll see mine lobe the sky.
I want to thank God for giving me the Grace to write this.
How was it?
YOU ARE READING
MY POEM COLLECTION
PoetryPoetry allows you to discover, And gives you the gift to recover, Giving you the wheel and compass, To venture through the bypass
