Against the stark white layer of snowfall
I see bright orange bits of flesh.
Shrapnel of an insane man.
Words fall freely from the mouth of madness...
White
And orange
And black.
Words on paper
Wet and wrinkled...
Bleeding.
Bleeding all over my head
And my arms
And the back of my neck.
I know right now there is a regret to be had here.
I breathe deep the fragrance of regret.
Bright orange
Frosty white
Snow-covered doom
Encircling me now.
YOU ARE READING
Flock Of Amazing Poems
PoezjaThis is a collection of my favorite poems, which I have collected so far. It has the biggies like Walt Whitman or Byron, but it also has some of lesser known poets who write just jaw-dropping poetry.
