You were always more deserving of
Life than I, the happier
One of the
Two of us
But your time ran
Short and mine stretched
On and on and on and on
And now I am the
One of the
Two of us who
Lays in bed at night writing
Poetry and
You are
The one who
Lays dead, inspiring
It
n.p.
YOU ARE READING
Ramblings of a Mad Child
PoetryDifferent people and different lives, different stories and different times. I cope with life by writing things that appear profound to me.
