a virgin smell
in a wedding dress
after death
in high distress
how I laughed
in his face
spent life times reading
didn't ever understand
oh the logical
oh the skeptical
pretty names
just emotional
art is nothing
without its paint
god does not need
you so called saint
telling and yelling
thinking me dwelling
a prisoner who doesn't know
for what he is serving
YOU ARE READING
Talking heart
PoetryTransferring my thoughts in form of poetry. To understand myself, probably, maybe.
