Her pale face
Is white in the moon's sheen
She is unremarkable
She is never seen
She's never noticed
Always forgotten
No one but the moon and stars
For they show her when
When the world was kind
Where there was no bad deed
Where beauty meant nothing
Neither did money or greed.
Not my poem
YOU ARE READING
The Lost
PoetryThis is for those with the swollen, tired eyes. This is for those who wake up every morning and cries. This is for those who are abused at home. This is for those who feel isolated and alone. This is for those who have attempted/have committed suici...
