Grave for a friend
Bruised and blistered I stand,
next to a half-dug grave.
The grave of man's best friend.
Last time I did this still young and innocent,
small graves and a tear for my loved ones.
Here I stand now,
knee deep in time's repeat.
Rest in peace till time again,
I'm called back to my place in this cycle of tears.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Paper Cut Eyes
PoesíaThese are just some of the poems I write. My emotions in writing.
