My world turned to ash.
My day changed to despair
and my sun is no longer there.
At night the moon is red
and all the stars are dead.
My love still exists,
but it is forgotten.
My life is still on Earth
but does nothing but hurt.
YOU ARE READING
No Longer Blank Pages
PoetryWords spiral across the page/ channeling the pain and rage/ of a broken, and sad writer/ who pounds the keys of a beaten typewriter./ Tear-stained yellow pages/ fly across the ages/ and the hands of time turn/ never back and always forward./
