Days passing by in a blur
Not once did she stir
From her lonely seat
Curled up in a state of grief
Watching the sunsets
Thinking of her regrets
Crying as the moon rises
Slowly dying inside
From the hardest loss
And with each burst of coughs
The dagger of death
Pushes itself further into her breast
A reminder of love lost
-A.S
YOU ARE READING
Another Tragic Story
PoetryA collection of the thoughts and feelings I'm too afraid to share. These words are things I see, hear, taste, and feel. These are the words of my life on a page, this is the tragedy I see.
