There are social classes
Even though they say
they don't exist
But they do.
The poor
living on the streets.
The middle class
working to the bone
The rich
Spending luxuriously
But we are all
just corpses
rotting in the
ground
YOU ARE READING
Naive
PoetryWORDS WERE THE LIFEBLOOD OF POETRY, AND I REMAINED SILENT. A collection of poetry. For the people who don't feel at home in their own skin, for the poets, for the people who are depressed, for the people who aren't depressed, for the people with wo...
